


the story of tinsley and ricky

by ImJustPassingThrough



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Bonnie and Clyde Fusion, Angst, Blood and Injury, Buzzfeed Unsolved References, Character Death, Criminal Ricky Goldsworth, Cute, Detective C. C. Tinsley, Die Together, Drinking & Talking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Episode: s01e09 The Mysterious Disappearance Of The Sodder Children, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting to Know Each Other, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder Husbands, On the Run, Serial Killer Ricky Goldsworth, Strangers to Lovers, Swearing, Wheeze (Buzzfeed Unsolved), almost, knife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:00:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 37,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28428213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJustPassingThrough/pseuds/ImJustPassingThrough
Summary: C. C. Tinsley was given a lead on the Sodder Children Case, and so leaves to New York, where he meets a charming, and attractive man called Ricky Goldsworth.
Relationships: "Night Night" Bergara & Ricky Goldsworth, "Night Night" Bergara/"Legs" Madej, Banjo McClintock/Original Male Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Ricky Goldsworth/C. C. Tinsley, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 85
Kudos: 25





	1. this world will remember me

**Author's Note:**

> This is very Bonnie/Clyde, and it does have minor character deaths, and goes into slight descriptions of the murder. Lets be honest, I find Bonnie and Clyde way to interesting. I was watching the movie and I was like, OH LETS DO THIS... AGAIN!
> 
> Summary:  
> Meet Ricky Goldsworth, a man who lives in a small, forgettable town in Chicago, and wants to make a name for himself.

Chattering filled the Chicago bar, dingy and cold, but alright prices on beer. Ricky Goldsworth knew all about good money for beer, anything cheap he can get his hand on he'll take it. He traced the rim of the glass with his index finger, watching the beer bubble, he picked it up and took a mouthful, enjoying the tang it left in his mouth, and relished the burn it gave down his throat. He set the glass down. A few drunk men looked at him, and whispered.

Ricky rolled his eyes, and brought out a brown, leather book, bringing out a beige wooden pencil and red cubed eraser with a penguin on. He rolled his shoulders and put pencil to rough textured paper, and began sketching what was in front of him; The beer glass on a red coaster, on a wooden table with splinters sticking up in areas, and unidentified stains that Ricky would rather not think about.

People kept whispering, glancing to him, and at first, Ricky ignored it, but it was distracting him. He clenched his hand, glaring down at his sketchbook, and his head snapped up angrily and suddenly, teeth bared and clenched together, "what?!" They turned around in shock, eyes wide and shaking.

Ricky rubbed his brown eyes, tiredly. There are two reasons why they're looking and whispering. It's either his ethnicity, and if he's honest that would anger him. Or, it's the fact he's a criminal. Two years ago he was caught by police for armed robbery at a small gas station. He didn't even get much money, but he got food, and he shot up the cashier, an old woman with gray curled hair, and a hunchback. Was her named Becky? Margret? Who knows? She didn't live much longer after that. He rushed out of the place with under half a bag of money, and a bag of food. but was instantly intercepted by police.

He was given two years in prison, breaking rocks, and got off on good parole. Thank god for that, because if he didn't get off on good parole, he would've cut off few toes so he wouldn't have to breaks rocks, and live with a limp for the rest of his life.

Ricky frowned in thought, actually the reason they could be staring and whispering could be because of surprise option three, his ethnicity and that he's a criminal.

He sighed, and slouched, sipping his drink, and going back to drawing, the whispering having died down to background noise. He didn't even know the people in the room, he's never seen them, never heard of them. But that's what this place is. This town is full of people, full of men, women and kids, all of which live and die, and are forgotten in a few days time. He honestly can't wait to leave, get out of this place.

Ricky tapped his index finger against the splintered table, picking at a few pieces of wood. He glared at nothing. He doesn't intend to waste his life around this place, and at this point, he has it all mapped out. If he could pull about three jobs a year, he'll be rich, he'll have wealth and fame, and everyone will know his name. He grinned, sitting up. He'll be like Billy the Kid, and Mister Capone, and every kid will be idolising Ricky Goldsworth!

He stuffed the pencil, sketchbook and eraser into his beige coat pocket, and chugged down the rest of his drink, scrunching his face up from the sudden tang, and burn. He slammed the glass down, and got up, walking to the bartender, a pot belly man, bald and greasy, "Mike, can I use your telephone?"

Mike looked up from the glass he was cleaning with a rag, he nodded, and slid the phone over, "go for it, Rick."

Ricky took it with a polite smile, and picked up the phone, and spun the dial, the dial tone sounded.

"Hello?" Asked a voice, rough and harsh.

Ricky smirked, "that anyway to greet your cousin, Night Night?" He twirled the cord with his index finger.

There was silence, and finally, a now happy and delighted voice said, "Ricky! Good to hear from you! You okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine Night Night." Smiled Ricky, "how are you?"

"I'm good, things are well. Business is booming, and plenty of money."

"Hows Legs?" Ricky asked, tapping his finger against the table again. He grinned, "is he in your arms?" He teased.

Night Night scoffed, "no actually, he's in bed."

Ricky rolled his eyes, "Night Night, you gotta let Legs help you. He was a lawyer, he know what to do, and how to help!"

"Yeah, but he's my boyfriend. He didn't start off in a life of crime, and I want to keep him safe." Night Night reasoned.

Ricky sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "we didn't start off in a life of crime, yet look at us."

"I know, I know..." Night Night sighed, "you'll understand one day..."

"Sure!" Laughed Ricky, rubbing his nose, and straightening his rather bushy moustache.

"How was prison?" Night Night asked.

Ricky frowned, and leaned onto the table, "seriously? It was terrible, nearly cut off my toes to get out of doing jobs."

"You didn't, right?" Night Night asked worried.

Ricky laughed, "no, no I didn't. I got off on parole before I did!"

Night Night fell silent, and finally asked, "why did you call? Don't get me wrong, it's nice to hear from you, but it's you. You don't call unless you want something."

"I wanna leave this place, wanna come to New York. I was hoping you'd let me stay with you and Legs for a while?" Ricky asked, hopeful, "and! And! I will even do jobs, and work with you, and I won't through you two under the bus!" Ricky promised, and opened his mouth to continue his panic and begging rambling.

But, Night Night cut him off with a chuckle, "yes Ricky, you can stay with me and Legs."

Ricky relaxed, and let out a sigh of relief, "great. I'll see you soon." He hung up, and pushed the phone to Mike, "thanks Mike."

Mike nodded, and put the phone away, going back to cleaning. Ricky smiled, and got up, he walked out the bar, and into the cold night. He looked around, and noticed a few people walking the streets, and finally, he saw a car, quiet a beautiful car. Old, but beautiful.

It's a Chrysler Thunderbolt. It's a light, pale blue, and a brown, pink tinted trim, and convertible roof that was down. He smirked, and went to a gas station near by, he bought a few matches, and smiled at the man behind the counter who looked tense, no doubt he heard of the last gas station Ricky walked in. He walked out with the matches, and spilt gasoline all over the floor. He got into the Thunderbolt, and started the car, and relaxed into the seat. This car is his now, it's gorgeous. He drove off, lighting the match, and dropping into the gas.

The gas lit up, and spread, and the tanks of said gas exploded. Everyone screamed, as the fire spread, and Ricky drove off into the night, laughing, sticking a match between his teeth, leaving the fiery chaos behind him.


	2. the mysterious disappearance of the sodder children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C. C. Tinsley gets a possible lead all the way from New York.

**5 Months Later**

Beige walls, and peeling wallpaper, with boxes filled with case files, a lamp, and a few pictures surrounded the room. C. C. Tinsley emptied one of his desk drawers into a box, taking out a few files. Tinsley wasn't much of an exciting man, and kept everything to a minimum. Everything in his house, besides his office, was already in his Mercedes-Benz 770 Großer car, sure it was a couple years old, but it worked. He rolled his shoulders, tired, thinking about what had happened in the past few eventful days.

_C. C. Tinsley was given a job to find some missing children, the job given to him by a Mr. George Sodder to find his missing children, he had a case file, and his number one suspect for the fire was in fact the_ _life insurance salesman that threatened him. But, then it was the case of if they were actually kidnapped like Mr. Sodder believed._

_He was working on the case this particular day, tired, and was rubbing his sloth like eyes. He had asked around, and only a few witnesses said they saw the children on the night of the fire in a car driving away, and another said she served the breakfast the morning after the fire. And, apparently, one of the sons said a man was watching them._

_This case was strange, he couldn't lie. He wasn't sure who did it, where anything or anyone was. Was it a cover up? A freak accident? Surely not, as he said, his main suspect right now is the life insurance man. And, not to mention, he discovered that a member of the coroner's jury, who had decided the fire was an accident, was none other than the life insurance salesman who had threatened George previously._ _He flipped through his notebook, and looked through the description of the man._

_Tall, brunette, with small brown eyes, skinny and white, round glasses, clean shaven, looks young, but seemed to be in thirties. George didn't give a name, didn't know the mans name, and so was working with very little. News had spread about the case, about the failure of the fire department, the threatening, if the children are dead or missing, the attempt at involving FBI but was blocked. It was a national interest, and thus fake reports of seeing these children have been rolling in by random people. Or, maybe they were real, but he doubted it._

_Tinsley tapped his pen against the desk, looking over another fake (or real, but more then likely fake) report given by a man from out of town, hell out of this country. It's from Italy! But, it's probably fake. Right?_

_His telephone rang, and he picked it up, not looking up from his report, "hello, Detective C. C. Tinsley. How may I help you?"_

_A female voice came through, "hello Detective Tinsley, I'm Detective Holly Horsley from New York. I understand you're working the missing Sodder Children case."_

_Tinsley paused in his writing, and got out a clean piece of paper, "yes ma'am. Do you happen to know anything about it?"_

_"Not much, I can't lie. But, I know the basics." Holly admitted, "but, I might have a lead for you."_

_Tinsley slouched, "Detective Horsley, how certain are you that this is an actual lead?"_

_"About ninety percent." Holly sighed, "but, please. Just listen."_

_Tinsley wrote down a few things; Holly Horsley, New York, possible lead, 90% sure. He nodded, "alright Detective Horsley, tell me your lead."_

_"The lead is a mob boss, a man. His name is Night Night Bergara." Holly said, and Tinsley hummed to show he was listening, and he wrote down the information; Night Night Bergara, mob boss, man. Holly continued, "multiple crimes link to him, but there isn't enough evidence to place him at the blame."_

_Tinsley paused in his writing for a second, and sighed, "so, how can you be ninety percent sure it's him?" He wrote down; multiple crimes, not enough evidence to link to him._

_Holly sighed, "I know for a fact that he knows George Sodder, I know that before he moved to New York the two were... Not friends, but close."_

_Tinsley frowned, "lovers?" But wrote down the notes; knows George. Night moved to NY._

_Holly hummed a weird, and confused noise, "friends, lovers, business partners. Everything and nothing. Poetic I know... Night Night stopped seeing Mr. Sodder a few days before he won his case in Texas, and then he fled soon after winning his case."_

_Tinsley blinked, and wrote it down; George & Night - friends, lovers business partners etc. Night stopped seeing George days before win on case. Texas to NY. Fled after win. "I'll speak to Mr. Sodder, see what I can get out of him."_

_"And, if the lead is big enough will you come?" Holly asked, sounding hopeful._

_Tinsley nodded, "of course."_

_"Oh, thank you Detective Tinsley!" Holly cried out in gratitude. "I'll get an apartment set up for you." She hung up, relieved._

_Tinsley sighed, and had waited an hour to collect his thoughts before heading off to talk to George Sodder. Preferably without Jennie Sodder, so that way George Sodder didn't need to feel uncomfortable. He left his office, gray hat on his head, covering his messy locks of hair, and drove off in his car, and saw George outside his temporary living arrangement, rocking on a rocking chair. He climbed out, and smiled softly, and comfortingly to the man._

_George smiled tiredly, warily, and stood up, seeing Tinsley walking over. He reached his hand out, "Detective Tinsley."_

_Tinsley took his hand, and shook it, "Mr. Sodder. Good to see you, I hope you don't mind me asking you a few questions."_

_George nodded, "do you need Jennie? Or any of my kids?"_

_"Just you, Mr. Sodder."_

_George nodded, and scratched his head, "right, will this help find my children?"_

_"I certainly hope so, Mr. Sodder." Tinsley flipped open his notebook, and brought out his pen, "now, I need you to be completely honest, and I need you to know I'm not here to judge you." George nodded, and so Tinsley continued, "I need you to tell the truth, any lies you tell might make this case even harder." Again, George nodded, crossing his arms. Tinsley looked to him, "do you know a Night Night Bergara?"_

_George paled, and stood taller, "I've known the life insurance man for a while, we moved from Italy to Texas, where we met Night. We were all friends, him, me and Night Night. Bergara and I were closer though... We were, you know... We had fun together. Then he went off and fell in love with the lawyer working against him. I made sure it was know that Night Night should have been in jail, and he and the boyfriend fled. I moved here." He swallowed, "Night Night must still be friends will the life insurance man..."_

_Tinsley blinked and nodded, writing it all down, "right... Thank you, you need to know I'll be going to New York to follow up on the lead."_

_George nodded, "good look, Detective."_

Tinsley finished placing the boxes into his car, it was slightly run down, faded and scuffed up. He slid into his drivers seat, setting the hat into the passenger seat, and drove off, leaving the quiet town behind to go to the busy city known as New York.


	3. dive into the madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C. C. Tinsley is now in New York, and explains the case to Holly Horsley, and learns about a new lead; The Golden G. Killer.

Tinsley pulled up in front of the apartment buildings. It was tall, lots of rooms with lights turned off. He pulled out a few boxes, three, all of which were stacked on top of each other. He pushed open the door to the opening of the apartment rooms, using his hip.

There was an old woman at the mail boxes, she was short, in a blue cardigan, gray curled hair, and glasses covering her brown eyes to match her skin. She looked up, and her eyes widened, "oh, deary! Let me help you!" She took a box from Tinsley, who sighed in relief, thanking her. She squinted, "oh, you're the new neighbour Detective Tinsley right?" She smiled, the two walking up the stairs.

Tinsley nodded, smiling at the woman, "yeah, that's me. And you are?"

"Clara, Clara Stevens!" The old woman smiled, "your boss, Detective Horsley gave me your key to your room. She asked if I could give you the key. And don't worry it's in my pocket, dear."

Tinsley smiled, "thank you very much."

"You're welcome!" Clara smiled, and the two walked to a door on the third floor. Clara set the box down, shaking her hands in pain.

Tinsley frowned in worry, "are you okay, ma'am?"

Clara smiled, "oh, I'm fine! I may be old, but I'm not dead yet!" She reached into her dress pocket to fish out a key.

Tinsley looked to the door, noting a plastic silver number poorly glued onto the door, number _27_. He looked to the woman, and smiled, seeing a fake gold, swirly looking key in her dark toned, bony, and wrinkly hand. He gently took it, his long, pale fingers wrapping around he key, and he unlocked the door, balancing the boxes on his hip. He turned the Clara and smiled, "thank you, ma'am. An angel from the sky." He smiled.

The woman giggled, and waved her hand, "oh, you! You get settled in, I'll see you around!" She walked off, next door to Tinsley's and walked in, quietly shutting the door.

He set the boxes down, and pulled the third in. He walked off, and got the last two boxes, making the trek, and shut the door behind him. He pushed the boxes away from the door, locking said door. He looked around. It was small, three rooms. The main room was a sofa, with a coffee table, with a desk in the corner with a chair and drawers, a television, a kitchen attached to the main room, there was a window and yellow curtains in the gray toned room. The other room is a bedroom, a singular bed, a twin. Small, and would barely fit in, there's a cupboard, and bedside table , and a window. The smallest room is the bathroom, a toilet, sink and bathtub with just enough standing space.

He should unpack. He really should.

Sighing, he did what he had to do, like an adult. He unpacked his clothes, very little. He unpacked his one plate, his knife and fork, his mug and glass, with a few pans. He unpacked the most important parts, the case files, and the lamp, an his one or two pictures. He moved them to the desk, and paused. He noticed two files on the desk, and set his files down.

He picked up the files, and noticed a note. He picked it up, and noticed the cursive writing. He read the rather short note:

_Detective Tinsley,_

_Here's the lead for the the Sodder Children case. Night Night Bergara, and another one, The Golden G. Killer, that case file has been crudely put together as this has all happened in the last five months. Any questions I will gladly fill in. Good luck, I'll see you tomorrow._

_H. Horsley_

He opened the first file of Night Night Bergara, he was short, muscular. He could see what George found attractive. A mob boss, not a murderer, but he kidnapped people, he was a big time thief, and while he himself didn't kill, he ordered others to kill. Only got called in once, but got off free, then fled as it was found out evidence was tempered with. But nothing seemed to help link him to crimes, these are just speculations, rumours.

He moved onto the next case file, The Golden G. Killer. It was... So full of crimes, yet no evidence or even a suspect. A killer and robs bank. Motives of deaths are either random, or act of revenge. Calling card, Golden G spray painted on the face, or wall of bank. Ten kills in five months, all with the same death. Stabbed to death 40 times with a knife, throat slit open, finger nails and teeth pried off.

He went through the names of the victims; Mary Stuart, Eugene Yang, Ned Fulmer, Safiya Nygaard, Mark Lucas, Jen Ruggirello, Sara Rubin, Steven Lim, Andrew Ilnyckyj, Alice Walt, John Stem. The only ones killed in revenge apparently were Ned, Eugene and Steven.

He went through the banks; Avisha Bank, Mosary Money Bank, Allet Bank, Tonks Bank, Andra Bank, Marky Bank. — Unidentified Bankers killed.

Tinsley took a shaky breath, and flipped the page. All anyone knew about him was he wears fancy clothes, average height, tanned, brown eyes. His voice cold, but smooth. He closed the case file, and shook his head.

He went to bed the night, with one question on his mind; Why is this Golden G. Killer a suspect? He had a restless sleep that night, tossing and turning constantly, and so, when he woke, he had terrible bags under his red, puffy eyes. He got dressed, and picked up the files, and rushed out the door.

"Oh, hello Detective Tinsley!" Smiled Clara, shuffling out of her apartment, "sleep well?"

Tinsley stopped running, and looked to Clara. He smiled, and relaxed instantly, "good morning, Clara. I slept well, how about you?"

"I slept well myself, you off to the office?" Asked Clara, the two now slowly walking down the stairs.

"Yes ma'am. What about you?" Tinsley asked, smiling.

Clara chuckled, "off to meet a boyfriend. If I'm honest, I can still get around!" She smiled, proudly.

Tinsley wheezed, and leaned over, smiling, "well, you are the prettiest woman I've ever seen!"

Clara patted his cheek, "you're too nice, sir." The two walked out, and Clara waved her hand with a smile, "you get to the office deary."

"I'll see you tonight, unless your busy." Tinsley teased, and rushed off to his car. He set everything down in the passenger seat, set down his hat on top of it. He got in, and drove off.

The drive was short thankfully, but at the same time, he did not want to be an adult for the day. The Sodder case was already confusing, and now all this. He climbed out, hat on his head again, files in his arms. He walked up the steps to the building, it was large, tall, with officers and detectives walking in and out, rushing about.

He walked, and it was the stereotypical policing, detective building. He looked around, and noticed a woman with brunette hair walk over, "Detective Tinsley?" He nodded, and she stuck out her hand, "I'm Detective Horsley."

Tinsley took her hand, and shook her hand in greeting, "nice to meet you. Thank you for the apartment."

"You're welcome. Lets go to my office, and talk. Yes?" Holly smiled, and led Tinsley to her office.

Tinsley looked around, and noted the room was large. A desk sat there, files everywhere, books, and shelves. He took a seat, and Holly sat behind her desk, "so? Fill me in on the Sodder Case..."

Tinsley set down the case file, suspect file, and theory file. And so, he began to explain everything.

"December 24, 1945, in Fayetteville, West Virginia. George and Jennie Sodder, along with nine of their children, Sylvia, two; Marion, seventeen; John, twenty-three; George, Jr., sixteen; Maurice, fourteen; Martha, twelve; Louis, nine; Jennie, Jr., eight; and Betty, five; were asleep when a fire started in their home." He gave the files over, and Holly looked over them.

"George, Jennie, Sylvia, Marion, John, and George, Jr. all escaped, as the rest of the children shared two bedrooms, which were upstairs. George broke back into the house to save the rest of the children - Maurice; Martha; Louis; Jennie, Jr; and Betty - , but the staircase was on fire; and when he went to the back of the house to use his ladder, it was missing. His coal trucks, which he wanted to use to park and climb on top of, could not start." Tinsley said, pointing to a paragraph. Holly looked over this, and so, wrote down notes.

"Marion ran to a neighbor's house to call the fire department, but the operator did not respond, and the same thing happened with another nearby house. The latter neighbour ran to the fire department and found the fire chief, F. J. Morris, but though it was only 2.5 miles away, it took the firefighters seven hours to reach the home, at which point it was ash." He shook his head, "I could've spit the fire out in that time..." Holly bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

"Authorities excavated the ash, looking for remains of the five missing Sodder children, but nothing was found, and they were presumed dead. The basement still remained, but was later covered up to create a memorial for the children." Tinsley sighed, and went to speak, but Holly interrupted.

"Do you think that those kids could have made it down before the stair case lit into flames, and hid in that basement?" Holly asked, frowning, pen pausing in writing.

Tinsley looked down, "I'm not sure... I would hope not, but if not then they're dead, either way or they're kidnapped."

Holly nodded, and wrote something down, "okay, sorry for interrupting you Detective. Please continue."

Tinsley nodded, and continued, "the fire was deemed to originate from bad wiring in the house, and the week after, the Fayetteville coroner's office issued death certificates for each of the children." He scoffed, "F. J. Morris claimed that he had found a heart in the fire—but when the "heart" was examined, it was revealed to be beef liver. Morris said that he had wanted to give the family closure."

"And your theories?" Holly asked, frowning, tapping her pen against the notebook.

Tinsley sighed, and raised his hands, "the Sodder children perished in the fire." He opened the theory file, and pointed. "F. J. Morris suggested that the fire may have been so hot that it completely cremated the children's bodies." He held up a finger, "however, bones are not typically burned away in fires, even long-lasting ones, and usually remain in fragmented form. In speaking to a crematorium employee, Jennie found that bones were always left behind, even when bodies burned at 2,000 **°** Fahrenheit for two hours — and the Sodder home burned for only 45 minutes. Additionally, no smell of burning flesh was reported at the scene, and remains of household appliances were found in the rubble, meaning not everything was ash."

Holly nodded, "did you follow up on this information?"

Tinsley nodded, "yes. I asked around, and they confirmed that." He showed another piece of paper. "The other theory, the one the family believe is, the Sodder children were kidnapped, and the fire was set by someone else."

Holly frowned, and nodded, "okay, and do you believe this?"

Tinsley paused, and nodded, "yes, I do believe they were kidnapped." Holly gestured for him to continue, and so he did. "George had gotten the wiring checked earlier that fall by the power company, who had deemed it in good condition. Therefore, the claim of bad wiring starting the fire was unlikely to be true. Also, George Sodder had immigrated from Italy, to Texas and finally Fayetteville. And Fayetteville had a small community of Italian immigrants. George held controversial views against Benito Mussolini, the Italian prime minister and dictator, and often vocalised them, which angered some of the population. George had also never revealed why he left Italy, adding to rumours that he may have been involved in 'shady business'."

Holly nodded, and looked up from the notebook, "and?"

"In the fall, a life insurance salesman had come to the house. After apparently seeing that he would not be able to sell the policy to George, he threatened that," he pointed to the file, "just read it, Detective..."

Holly looked at the text, and her eyes widened, _[George's] Goddamn [sic] house is going up in smoke, and [his] children are going to be destroyed. [He's] going to be paid for the dirty remarks [he's] been making about Mussolini._ "Tinsley, I think you solved it!"

Tinsley pointed and nodded, "so do I! But the issue is, this was never followed up on by local law enforcement. And, I couldn't bring it up! And, and, he was on the jury as well! I think he was the main suspect!"

Holly tapped his foot against the floor, this wasn't normal, "is there more?"

"Days before the fire, two of the surviving Sodder sons had noticed a man watching the younger Sodder children come home from school on Highway 21. The night of the fire, around twelve thirty a.m., Jennie got out of bed to answer a phone. She noticed the lights were still on, and as she returned to sleep, heard a loud bang on the roof, followed by the sound of something rolling. An hour later, she woke to the smell of smoke entering her room downstairs." 

Holly looked to the text, and wrote it down, "anymore?"

"A witness to the fire claimed they had seen a man removing a block and tackle. A block and tackle is a pulley system, typically used for removing engines from cars. This could contribute to the fact that George's cars were not working."

"You're right, that could contribute to the fact." Holly agreed.

"I have a few witnesses. The night of the fire, a woman said that she saw the children in a car driving by. The day after, a woman operating a tourist stop fifty miles west of Fayetteville claimed to have served them breakfast and that there was a car with Florida license plates at the stop as well."

"And you say, this life insurance is a suspect?" Holly asked.

Tinsley nodded, "Night Night, George and the man were friends. After Night fell in love with another, George got angry, managed to confirm that evidence against Night was tampered with. Night fled. If the insurance man is to blame, and is friends with Night Night still, Night Night could have kidnapped them, sold them, or made someone kill them."

Holly nodded, "you clearly did your homework on the leads."

"Which reminds me. The Golden G. Killer, whats the link with that?" Tinsley asked, notebook out.

Holly put her notebook away, "the rumour is, Night Night and The Golden G. Killer are cousins. Apparently, he does whatever Night Night says."

Tinsley nodded, "right. Am I okay to go to my office now? Put this away?"

"Down left, second room to the right down the hall."

Tinsley shook her hand, picked everything up, and walked out. He turned to the left, and walked down the hall, two doors down to the right, he found his office. Rather empty, but enoug. He walked in and sat down. He began to file away this new information about Night Night and The Golden G. Killer, linking information together.

He set his things away, and rubbed his eyes. God, he needs a break from this mess of a case. He reached into his gray trench coat and pulled out a black leather book, and opened it to a clean page. He began to write about the stress and the case. Feelings, mixed with the two suspects. What word rhymes with golden? Hmm, olden, colon... Oh, stolen! Writing poems helps calm, and helps make him clear his mind, and work his way through cases. He's sure if anyone ever saw his poetry book, they would be horrified by the feelings and details of the cases, written is a way that most would consider beautiful, as poetry is romantic and beauty.

Holly suddenly pushed the door open with a bang, and Tinsley looked up. Holly's eyes were stern, "Detective, I know this isn't your main focus, but there's been a body found, left by the Golden G. Killer."

Tinsley waved a hand, and stood, "no, no. I'll go, I need to see who this guy is in action."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've not written out the full case, as well, it's only up until C. C. Tinsley, and early 1940's. Some things were found out after C. C. Tinsley, after the 40s, and a week after the fire.


	4. return to sender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C. C. Tinsley deals with his first body left by The Golden G. Killer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does get graphic, in the very first line. But, then again, this was a given, as of the tags.

She's lying on her back, a female, white, she's blonde, she's been stabbed forty times with a knife, not just a knife, but a talon her throat has been slit open, and her finger nails and teeth were pulled from the skin, and there's a golden _G_ pained on her face, fully clothed.

Tinsley stared, bile rising up his throat, but he swallowed it down, shivering in disgust as he did. He stared in horror. He knew what The Golden G. Killer did to his victims, but even with knowing what he does, seeing it in the flesh, in person, and up close was different, and he feels sick.

He glanced to Holly who stood by blankly. He waited to see if she made any comment, is her face faltered, it didn't. Clearly, she was used to this. He looked to the body, and stared, "do we have a name?"

"Yeah, Kathy Samson." A man near by said, kneeling and taking photo's. "Says so on her ID."

Holly walked over, and pulled gloves on. She bent down, and squinted, "that's new..." She reached out, and picked up a yellow tinted piece of paper, folded in half. He noticed on the front, in black cursive writing was the word _Detective_. She flipped it open and glanced through it, then looked to Tinsley, folding the letter again, "put on gloves, the killer knows you're here and sent a letter."

Tinsley swallowed, and Holly offered a pair of gloves. He took them, and pulled them on, and then took the letter held out to him. He noticed the abundant of swirls on the one word, _Detective_ and he shakily opened the letter.

_My dearest, Detective,_

_Welcome to New York, I'm sure it's a lot different then Fayetteville, West Virginia. I know it's relatively quiet up there, besides the recent case of the Sodder Children. I do hope you find those children Detective, I'm wishing you luck. You must be overwhelmed by the new faces, and the large buildings, and the bustling streets, please try not to get overwhelmed._

_I do hope you like my welcoming gift, I apologise if it makes you feel sick, I understand my methods are quiet grotesque. I just felt it was the only way to welcome you properly to New York, even if it is rather upsetting. This death, this body... It benefits both of us I think. Gift for you, my personal reason for me. Enjoy the gift, Detective._

_Also, I should warn you, Detective Horsley is a woman of importance, anything she wants she gets. It's going to drive you up the wall, so I suggest leaving now. Which then makes me wonder; Why are you here, Detective? I couldn't think why you would be here, it's only New York. Of course there's multiple crimes, and it seems interesting, but it's rather boring. Unless you're just looking to get away from Fayetteville... Or, maybe you yourself are working on the Sodder children case, and if that's so, why come to New York for answers? To me, it makes no sense._

_I do hope you enjoy your stay, Detective._

_Sincerely,_

_The Golden G. Killer_

Tinsley folded the paper, and slipped it into a wallet for evidence. He looked to Holly, "who called it in?"

"A random man, he's gone fishing now. Officer Jenkins is already there questioning the man." Holly assured, arms crossed, staring at the body.

Tinsley tapped his foot, "does she have any friends? Family?" He shoved his hands into his trench coat pockets.

The man from before shakes his head, "no family, they're all dead, she's an only child. But, she has a friend, Francesca Norris her name is."

Tinsley wrote the name down in his notebook. "Right, I'm heading back to the office, I'm going to call her in for a meeting..."

Holly nodded, "of course Detective."

Tinsley walked off and climbed into his car. He sighed, and rolled his shoulders, shivering in utter disgust at the 'gift' left by the killer. He shook his head, and drove off to the office in silent thought. That body, that poor woman... He's sure this woman, Francesca Norris, will be distraught.

He pulled up in front of the office, and walked out and up the stairs, looking down, hands in pockets. He walked a receptionist, "excuse ma'am?" The woman looked up, peering from behind her glasses, and so Tinsley continued, "do you have a phone number for a Francesca Norris?"

The woman smiled, and nodded, "yes, how come?" She pulled out phone number file, and flipped through the numbers.

"Oh, no reason, ma'am." Tinsley smiled, and fiddled with his trench coat nervously and antsy.

The woman pulled out a small card, "here we go!" She handed it over, "she owns a docking station, so she gets a lot of business, hope you can reach her."

"Thank you, ma'am." Tinsley smiled, taking the card, tipping his hat, and walked off to his office. He sighed, and sat in his chair, slumping down, tiredly.

He picked up the phone, and put in the number, lifting the phone to his ear, pen and notebook in his hand. It rang for a few seconds.

Finally someone picked up, and a female sounded, "hello, Francesca Norris speaking, how can I help with your deliveries?"

"Hello ma'am this is Detective C. C. Tinsley, do you have any time you can spare, just for a few minutes?" Tinsley asked.

There was a paused, and Francesca said, voice worried, "y-yes. What's going on?"

"Ms. Norris, I would do this personally, but I'm new here, so I'm afraid I must do it this way. Do you know a Ms. Kathy Samson?" Tinsley asked, of course she knew her friend, but still.

"Yes, I-I do. She's my friend..." Francesca swallowed, breath shaky, "why? What's going on?"

Tinsley frowned, "I'm so sorry, we found your friends body... I know this is hard to take in, but, is there anyway you can come round to the station at two for an interview?"

"K-Kathy's dead?" Francesca asked, shocked, and horrified.

"I'm so sorry, we just want to find out who did this." Tinsley said, regretfully.

Francesca sniffed, "yes... Yes, two... I-I'll be there, Detective..." Tinsley wrote down the time, and the name of the woman.

The phone beeped, and so, regretfully, Tinsley set the phone done, hanging up.


	5. somebody that i used to know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C. C. Tinsley interviews Francesca Norris.

Hanging up the phone, regret turned to anger, "how fucking dare you!"

"How dare I, what Fran?"

Francesca turned, glaring at the man who was messing with a talon knife, match stick between his lips. "You killed Kathy! You killed my best friend, Ricky!"

Ricky rolled his eyes, "well done, you pointed out the obvious, so what?"

"A Detective... Whatever his name is, called me up!" Francesca yelled, tears in her eyes.

Ricky's eyes lit up in joy, pulling the match stick from his lips, "the Detective from Fayetteville? Oh, did he get my letter?"

Francesca glared, and reached behind her, pulling out a gun suddenly, "tell me, right now why I shouldn't pull the trigger, Goldsworth!"

Ricky stared blankly, "Night Night would torture you. And, I would haunt you for the rest of your miserable life."

"Ghosts aren't real!" Snarled Francesca, storming up to Ricky, gun digging into Ricky's chest.

Ricky stared into Francesca's dead eyes, and said, coldly, "but demons are."

"All thanks to you, my best friend is dead! And now, I have to go in for an interview!" Francesca snapped, glaring angrily, swallowing harshly.

"Well, you best get ready for that interview." Ricky smirked, mockingly.

"Why?! Why did you kill her?" Francesca asked, eyes wet and red. She lowered her gun, and took a shaky breath, sniffing, "why?"

Ricky smirked, and shrugged, "Kathy insulted Legs, told him he's useless. It upset him. And so, it angered and upset Night Night." He shrugged, "I had to kill her for them."

"No, no, you didn't... You didn't have kill her, my best friend." Sniffed Francesca, rubbing her nose.

Ricky smirked, "yes, I did. Now, get ready for that interview."

Francesca glared, rubbing her eyes. She went off slowly, looking down, and shaking. Francesca was going to kill Ricky, one way or another, and, with this thought in mind, she dressed herself, a black dress with white flowers, and cured her hair. She lightly applied make up to hide her tears, and red stained cheeks. She slipped on black shoes, and took a shaky breath. She walked down.

"Goodbye Franny!" Sang Ricky, mockingly wiggling his fingers bye, and smirking.

Francesca glared, and stormed out the warehouse, and slammed the door behind her. She sniffed, and dabbed her eyes, and walked off. She flagged down a bus, and got on.

She messed with her white, tear stained, and slightly makeup stained handkerchief, looking to her thing, nimble fingers. She took a shaky breath. Kathy's dead, all because of Ricky. She couldn't outright give a name, but imply things. One way or another, Ricky will die. She noticed the police station, and got off the bus.

Taking a deep breath, she walked up the steps. She walked to the reception desk, and shook, "e-excuse me?" The woman looked up, and so Francesca continued, "I'm here about an interview for Detective... Uh, the new Detective..."

The receptionist smiled, "Detective Tinsley? To left, down the hall, and two doors on the right."

"Th-thank you..." Francesca walked off, to the left, down the hall, two doors on the right. She saw the door, and saw a tall figure through the door window. She raised her hand, and knocked quietly.

The figure walked over, and opened the door, "hello?"

"Detective Tinsley? I'm Francesca Norris..." She held out a hand, taking in the figure. Gray, unpressed trench coat, and hat, with messy and scruffy hair.

Tinsley smiled softly, and took her small hand with his large, skinny hand, "hello ma'am. Please come in..."

Francesca let out air, afraid, and walked in, sitting in a chair. Tinsley moved to the opposite side of the desk, and sat down, bringing out a notebook, "how are you feeling?"

"Honestly? Sick..." Francesca sniffed, tears welling up in her eyes again. Tinsley handed over a tin of tissues, and Francesca took one. dabbing her eyes again, shaking. "We are- uh, were best friends..."

"I'm so sorry..." Frowned Tinsley, "I really don't want to upset you, but I need to ask questions..."

Wiping her eyes, she assured, "ask away... I'll be okay..."

Tinsley hesitated, but did as she said, "what's your name?"

"Francesca Norris."

Tinsley wrote it down, "what's your job?"

"I work at a docking station." Francesca lied, the truth is, she's a spy, but revealing that would mean she too would in trouble with the law, and she did not want that.

"Can you tell me about Kathy?" Tinsley asked, writing down information.

Francesca sniffed, and nodded, "Kathy Samson, she is... Was, twenty three, a year older than me. She works, well, worked, at as a receptionist..." That's the truth, she was the receptionist for Night Night. "We were best friends... I met her one day when we were at a cafe..." Or on a mission.

Tinsley wrote down more information, and looked to Francesca, "does she have any enemies? Any people who didn't like her?"

"No..." Francesca whispered, sniffing, and wiping her eyes. Then she realised something, she couldn't say everything, she's be in trouble with not just the law, but Night Night as well, but maybe, just maybe she could give a bit. "Yes..." Tinsley looked up in shock, and Francesca continued, "Kathy was a receptionist for Night Night. She insulted Legs, Night Nights boyfriend, called him useless. It angered Night Night, and so The Golden G. Killer killed her for them..."

Tinsley paused, and looked up in shock, "what? You know the Golden G. Killer?"

Francesca shook her head, "no, Kathy did, or at least juts Legs and Night Night. I'm just assuming... All I know is, Kathy mentioned a man with initials R and G."

Tinsley nodded, and wrote the information down, "thank you for everything... Is there anything else?"

Francesca sniffed, and wiped her eyes, "no, no. I don't think there's anything else..."

"Do you need a minute here?" Tinsley asked, frowning, but she shook her head. Tinsley got up and offered his arm, "let me walk you to the door then."

Slowly, Francesca got up, and took his arm, whispering a quiet, "thank you. I'll call if I remember anything else."

Tinsley gently, and slowly took her to the main station door, "that would be appreciated, thank you for everything..."

Francesca nodded, wiping her eyes again, "you're welcome..." She slowly walked down the stairs, and turned around seeing Tinsley now gone, probably having gone into the station again. Francesca turned away, and walked down the street, and wiped her eyes, smirking. Ricky will die one day, she'll make sure of it.


	6. you've got a friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C. C. Tinsley meets Ricky Goldsworth for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Referenced past drug abuse.

Where are the pens? Tinsley's been looking in this store for ten minutes now, yet can't find any. Really he should be looking for food, like fruit, vegetable, especially bread. He _needs_ bread, but then again, he _needs_ pens. He used the last of his ink on a poem about Francesca Norris and — Wow, does that sound creepy! He obviously doesn't mean in a creepy way, more of, _you have a lot of information, and I'm sorry for your loss, but thank you for the help._ Oh! Here are the pens! He picked up the cheapest pen there, and finally walked off to the bread, needing food.

He looked through the shelf, mind busy with the bread, and the case. He trailed a long finger over the bread, and went ro walk off, bumping into someone, the two looking shocked. They looked at each other, and Tinsley stared.

He bumped into a man, he's short. But then again, so is everyone compared to him, maybe the man is average height. He's tanned, and well built, with warm brown eyes, and black, silk hair combed back, with a black bushy moustache, and slight pink lips, and in between those lips was a match stick. He's in a white button up, top button undone, and sleeves rolled to his elbows, black pants and slacks. His hands looked small, but like they'd fit into his hands... Wait, what? Alright, so what? The guy in front of him is cute.

"Sorry..." The man smiled, and walked off. Wow, even his voice, it's smooth like caramel.

Tinsley shook his head, and walked off. _Focus on food, Tinsley. You won't see him ever again._ What else does he need? Oh, fruit! He did a ninety degree turn to the left, and walked off, fruit. The aisle was long, and actually quiet empty. He walked down the aisle, and looked at banana, he picked it up, and then set it down. No, not a banana, maybe an apple? Yeah, an apple. He continued his walked, and bumped into someone, again.

He looked down, and saw the man again, and he flushed, "oh, sorry."

"Sorry." The man laughed shyly, walking off the way he came from.

Tinsley walked back the way he came from, blushing. Who needs fruit? Just get a cow kidney or something. At least one thing to eat. He walked off, going to the butcher aisle. He didn't look around this time, he just needed one thing besides the pens he now had, just one thing so that way he can eat. Just one thing. He didn't look up, and maybe he should have since he, once again, bumped into someone again, no not someone, the man.

The two looked to each other, and laughed shyly. The man grinned, "maybe we should sit down and talk, before one of us gets hurt."

Tinsley smiled, and laughed quiet loudly, holding his stomach, letting out a wheeze, "good idea! C. C. Tinsley!" He held out a hand.

The man grinned, eyes lighting up, and shook his hand, "Ricky. Ricky Goldsworth."

Tinsley noticed this Ricky guy holding a pencil and an eraser, and the two forgot about their grocery list, more interested in talking to each other, buying the pencil and eraser, and pen.

"You wanna go for a drink? Take my car?" Ricky asked, stuffing the pencil and eraser into a pocket in his pants.

Tinsley thought, as he placed the pen into his trench coat pocket. He had walked from the apartment buildings, leaving his car behind, which probably wasn't smart what with a killer around, "sure, why not?" Besides, he could do with a friend.

Ricky smiled, and took Tinsley to his car. Tinsley stared, seeing the ever so slightly old car in mint condition, and Ricky opened the passenger door for him, "come on in."

Tinsley smiled, and got in, grinning, "thanks."

Ricky closed the car door, and got into the drivers seat, driving off with smile, "there's a bar not too far from here. That okay with you, sir?" Ricky's voice went husky ever so slightly at the end of his sentence.

Tinsley nodded, tipping his hat slightly, "fine with me." He blushed, nobody really called him sir, less so in a husked, flirty tone. This man did not care about people nearly killing him for flirting with a man, but then again, maybe that's why Tinsley was attracted to this man.

Ricky smirked, almost sharp, but at the same time, soft and gentle. He pulled up in front a bar a few minutes later, and Tinlsey looked up, arm resting on the seat. The bar was large, and well kept, and smoke was coming out from the windows. Ricky got out, and opened the passenger door for him, and offered his hand.

"I could cave your skull in for flirting with me." Tinsley said, taking Ricky's hand, relishing in the smooth, warm skin.

Ricky squeezed his hand slightly, he too, relishing in the rough, calloused skin, and long nimble fingers, "well, you wouldn't have taken my hand if that was the case."

Tinsley smirked, and climbed down, squeezing his hand back, "well played."

Ricky closed the door, and let go of his hand seeing a few people walk by. The two entered the bar, and he looked to Tinsley, "you get a seat, I'll order drinks."

"Whisky." Tinsley responded, walking off to the a seat. He picked a small booth, away from everyone. The leather red, and the table wooden, and smooth, with square red coasters, and a crystal ashtray. He fished into his inside pocket, and pulled out a cigarette. He patted his coat, looking for a lighter, or a match stick.

A whisky was placed in front of him, and Tinsley looked up to see Ricky, placing a bowl of nuts on the table. Ricky slid into the seat next to Tinsley, a beer in his grasp. He looked to Tinsley, and noticed the non-lit cigarette. He pulled the match stick from his lips, and struck it against the wall if the bar, and moved it to the cigarette, lighting it up, the fire giving Tinsley a glow. Ricky watched Tinsley, eyes sparkling and smiled softly.

Tinsley pulled back, taking an intake of tobacco, letting out some smoke. Ricky smiled, and blew out the smoke, setting the match stick into the tray, and sipped his beer.

"What do you do for a living, Tinsley?" Ricky asked, clasping his hands together.

Tinsley held the cigarette between his index and middle finger, "I'm a Private Investigator, a Detective. And you?"

Ricky looked down, looking to his beer, tracing the rim of the glass with his index finger again, "I'm a waiter..."

"Fancy clothes for a waiter." Tinsley commented, pulling the whisky closer to him.

"My family have money. My cousin gave me these clothes." Ricky pulled at the white shirt sleeve, "my Mom and Dad don't talk to me anymore, due to my..." He glanced around, and looked at Tinsley, "lifestyle..." Tinsley nodded, he knew what Ricky meant. Ricky continued, "and my brother... He's no longer with us..." Ricky looked down, frowning, "he was sent to jail a couple years ago, and they killed him."

Tinsley nodded, "I'm sorry..." Ricky waved his hand, waving him off, but Tinsley took his wrist gently, "I get it. My parents died in a house fire... Faulty wiring... And my brother and I blame the other." Tinsley explained, looking down, "I mean... He bought the house. And I payed for the wiring to be checked... He payed for the fixing, and I okayed it all..." Tinsley tipped back the whisky, enjoying the burn down his throat.

Ricky placed a hand on his shoulder, comfortingly, "I'm sorry, Tinsy..."

Tinsley waved a hand, "I've not been back home to Illinois since my parents death..."

Ricky nodded, "I've moved here recently, from Chicago... I've not been back, wanted a fresh start, you know?"

"I know exactly what you mean..." Tinsley rolled his shoulders, he had not expected a heart to heart with a practical stranger, and so he moved the conversation along, "you got any hobbies?"

Ricky smiled, and blushed a bright red, "well... Well, I guess..."

Tinsley smirked and nudged Ricky's arm with his elbow, "go on, tell me."

"I... I draw a lot..." Ricky admitted, shrugging shyly.

Tinsley's smirk fell into a comforting smile, "well, I write poetry." He pulled out his poetry book, and handed it over.

Ricky smiled, and gently took it, and Ricky pushed his sketch book over, and Tinsley smiled, taking it.

The two smiled, and looked over the work. Tinsley's eyes widened, sure Ricky seemed like a well put together man, but he didn't expect the man to be good at drawing realism. From buildings, to cars, to plants and in location drawings, they were crossed over each other, in a crisscross motion, like hatching, and a few were portraits, with shading. It was amazing, it was like they were a photograph. Ricky was enthralled, eyes wide. Tinsley has talent, painting abstract and clear images of feelings and thoughts, words weaving into each other.

Ricky looked up to Tinsley, "these are amazing!"

Tinsley smiled, and flushed, handing Ricky's sketch book back to him, "you could go somewhere with these, Ricky."

Ricky shook his head, handing back Tinsley's book, "not my style. You could go places with hose poems yourself if the Detective work doesn't work out."

Tinsley laughed, pocketing the book, "yeah right."

"Most of those poems are about drugs..." Ricky said, cautiously, noting how Tinsley stopped smiling. "You don't have to tell me, Tins."

Tinsley looked down, "heroin. I used to be addicted to the stuff... I knew it was bad, but it helped deal with the fighting with my brother. The loss of my parents..." Tinsley scratched the inside of his arm subconsciously, looking down, and worrying his lower lip. "I nearly overdosed on this particular day, and I knew that I had to stop." He shrugged, "locked myself in my room, with no contact with the outside world... It was pure Hell. But, I did it..." He took an intake of smoke.

Ricky's eyes widened, sparkling, "you're amazing..."

Tinsley chuckled bitterly, "yeah right..." 

It fell silent, and Ricky looked down, messing with his fingers, "I didn't leave Chicago due to family issues. I wanted a fresh start..." He looked up, to see Tinsley watching him. He took a shaky breath, "I was in prison before I left Chicago... It was an armed robbery of a gas station." He explained, looking down. "I was low on money, and so I went to an extreme length..." He shrugged helplessly, "I felt awful," he lied. "I'm clean now, right myself..." He looked down, and rubbed his neck, "I moved here to start a clean life, and start fresh."

Tinsley grinned, "that's great! I mean, I'm not happy about you doing that, but the fact that you're making up for it is great!" Ricky stared in shock, and god, he felt bad. Tinlsey smiled, and held out a hand, "Clarence Charles Tinsley."

Ricky shook his hand, and kissed Tinsley's knuckles, soft lips caressing calloused knuckles, "Ricardo Goldsworth."

Tinsley flushed, and looked down, smiling, "we... Uh, we should get home... It's late..."

"Right!" Ricky chugged the last of his drink, placed a match stick between his lips, and helped Tinsley up, "I'll drive you."

Tinsley smiled, "you don't mind?"

"Not at all."

The two walked out, smiling to each other, hands in pockets, and cheeks tinted a slight red. Ricky opened the passenger door for Tinsley, and helped him in with a smile. He closed the door, and got into the drivers seat, "so, where's your apartment?"

Tinsley leaned back, wrapping a long around around Ricky's back, "BullVer Block."

Ricky nodded and drove off, "isn't that block run down?"

"In a way, but it does it's job." Tinsley shrugged, smiling, admiring Ricky's profile.

Ricky nodded, "just make sure you lock your door and windows. Can't have my favourite Detective dead, can I?"

Tinsley grinned, "you have a favourite Detective?"

"Yes, and it's you." Smirked Ricky, rolling his eyes. "What, you think that Holly gal is any good?"

Tinsley looked down, and messed with the seat, "right, well... She got me two leads for the Sodder case."

Ricky frowned, "oh! _You're_ the Detective!" Ricky's eyes lit up in joy, this was amazing! He's been talking to the detective!

"You didn't know?" Laughed Tinsley, smiling.

Ricky smiled back, giggling, "I hadn't pieced it together! Give me a break!" He pulled up in front of an apartment building, he jerked his head, "that your place?"

Tinsley frowned and looked up, "yeah..." He looked to Ricky, and pulled his arm away, "can we... Can we meet up again, tomorrow night? Same place?"

Ricky grinned, "I'd be disappointed if I couldn't, Detective."

Tinsley smiled, and got out the car, "see you tomorrow, Ricky." He closed the door, and turned, walking off with a smile. Ricky watched until Tinsley was in the building, and then drove off, going home to Night Night.


	7. stuck on you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ricky Goldsworth gushes about C. C. Tinsley to Night Night.

Green, velvet cushions filled Ricky's vision as he fell onto the black sofa. He turned onto his back, looking at the cracked ceiling, and he pulled the cushion into his arms, match stick being chewed between his lips, eyes soft and dazed. He gripped the cushion, fingers digging into cushion. He giggled, acting like some lovesick teenager.

Quiet footsteps padded down the wooden stair steps. Night Night had heard giggling, and woke up, and so went to investigate. He was shirtless, a six pack, with muscles, and scratches all over his toned back, with stripped pants. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, and looked at his cousin.

He stared worried, and confused. He moved over to Ricky, noticing the dazed, far off look in his eyes, "Ricky? Are you okay?"

Ricky nodded, humming, staring at the ceiling softly.

Night Night frowned, and pushed his legs off the couch, sitting down. He patted Ricky's knee, "Ricky, you're worrying me."

Ricky sighed softly and happily, shrugging.

"Come on, you're me and you're my cousin—"

"You're favourite." Ricky chimed in suddenly, finger pointed up, still looking at the ceiling.

Night Night chuckled, relieved Ricky was acting more normal, and smiled, "you are indeed my favourite, but then again, you're my only remaining living cousin..." He looked over Ricky, noting how he had a far off look in his cold brown eyes still, "what's wrong?" Ricky hummed in confusion, soft and distant, and so, didn't look up. Night Night continued in his worry, "you seem distant."

Ricky sat up suddenly, and smiled at Night Night, "I've met the Detective who came from Fayetteville. You know, West Virginia?"

Night Night nodded, confused and slightly worried, "right?"

"Detective C. C. Tinsley is his name." Ricky smiled, keeping his full name to himself, and looked down. He ran a hand through his hair, frowning, shoulders slumped. "His life is pretty terrible... Dead parents, doesn't talk to his brother..." He then smiled, "he was addicted to heroin, but locked himself in a room. He's amazing..." Night Night frowned in worry, but he nodded. "He writes poetry..." Ricky smiled, "oh, Night... You know I'm not one for poetry, but boy do I appreciate Tinsley's poems." Night Night opened his mouth to speak, but Ricky waved his hand, "he lived in Illinois before he left to Fayetteville." Ricky grinned, "we got along so well. He even liked my drawings!" He pulled out his sketch book, tracing over were Tinsley had held his book, "didn't even care I went to jail..." He smiled, and scratched his head, "lives in BullVer Block..." Ricky giggled, "he's hilarious Night..."

Night Night nodded, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, "Ricky, it's great you made a friend, but don't get too attached."

Ricky rolled his eyes, and looked to him, "why?"

"Because, we don't know what he's doing here." Night Night said, wrapping a comforting arm around Ricky.

"Probably about the Sodder case. Apparently that bitch, Holly, gave him two leads." Ricky looked to Night Night shrugging, "you know anything about that?"

Night Night frowned, "I fooled around with George and that's it. Doesn't mean I know shit."

Ricky held up his hands in surrender, "I know, it's okay!" He smiled, looking down, "I'm gonna see him again tomorrow night."

Night Night nodded, "okay, just don't get too attached."

"So you keep saying. But Night, why are you being a hypocrite?" Ricky asked, arms crossed, leaning back, annoyed.

Night Night sighed, "look Ricky, I'm very happy you have a bestie for life, or whatever, but damn it focus." Ricky frowned, and so Night Night frowned, "he could throw you in jail, no, he _will_ throw you in jail, he _will_ find out and he _won't_ save you."

Ricky raised an eyebrow, "this is déjà vu, because if you remember, I told you the same about Legs."

Night Night leaned back and asked, frowning, "what do you mean?"

"Remember Legs, you're now boyfriend?" Ricky asked, eyebrow raised.

Night scoffed, "why are you bringing Legs into this?"

"Legs, when he was just Lawyer Madej, the Lawyer for the victims you kidnapped, against you?" Ricky asked, and when Night Night opened his mouth, Ricky raised his hand, and suddenly covered his mouth. "You went to Madej, and talked to him, as if talking to a friend. You then confessed to everything after you two did it together, and guess what happened." Again Night Night went to answer, but Ricky kept talking, "you won, and was let off. Madej kept seeing you, and you him, until, _finally_ it was found out somehow he tempered with evidence that would have put your sorry, candy ass in the cooler." Night Night looked down, and Ricky said, "remember? I do! He was at yours back in Texas—"

"I miss Texas..." Sighed Night Night.

Ricky scoffed, "yeah I'm sure you do, you was in Texas, with Madej in your house. And, the fuzz bashed down the door. You both shot your way out, went on the run to New York, and he changed his name, and is now living with you and dating you."

Night Night sighed, and nodded, "alright, fine... Fine..." He sighed, and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, "Ricky, you need to listen to me, be careful. I just got lucky with Legs, you probably won't."

"Night Night, it'll be fine." Ricky assured, waving his hand.

"Just, please be wary. Be careful..." Night Night begged, frowning.

Ricky smiled, blissfully, and eyes dazed and soft, love struck, "yeah, I'll be careful..."

Night Night sighed, and nodded, "right..."

Ricky looked to Night Night, "that reminds me, what was Legs' first name? Because, it's surely not just 'Madej'."

Night Night looked at Ricky, and smiled, "get some sleep, Rick." He got up, patting Ricky's shoulder, and went off up stairs.

Ricky smiled, and lay on his back, grinning. He folded his hands, and closed his eyes, relaxing into the sofa. He set down his sketch book, and turned over, eyes closed, when suddenly, he got an idea. He sat up, and grabbed his sketch book and pencil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Candy Ass - Wimp or easily scared.  
> Cooler - Jail  
> Fuzz - Police


	8. copycat tryna cop my glamour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C. C. Tinsley deals with a body that looks like him, and deals with the fact the killer drew him a picture.

A tall, lank pale man, with scruffy brown eyes, and a scraggly beard, well more like slight hair instead of a beard, He's like a stick. And he's also dead. He's been stabbed forty times with a knife, not just a knife, but a talon, his throat has been slit open, and his finger nails and teeth were pulled from the skin, and there's a golden _G_ pained on his face, fully clothed.

Tinsley stared in shock, eyes wide and to be honest, horrified. A man close by who was taking pictures, looked up to Tinsley, "body looks kinda like you, huh Tinsley?"

Tinsley didn't really hear, more focused on the body in front of him, "who called it in, do we know?"

"No, just a guy. Soft, caramel like voice." Holly said, walking over, hands in coat pockets.

"Can't you figure it out, somehow?" Tinsley asked, kneeling to look at the body.

Holly shook her head, "it was called in from a telephone booth."

"Any friends or family?" Tinsley asked.

Another man on the scene looked up, "he has a mother and two friends. I'm one of them." He stood up, and slowly walked over. He was blank, dead, almost numb.

Tinsley looked to him, "you think you can do an interview for me? Get in the mother and the other friend?"

The man nodded, "yeah... Yeah..." He took a shaky breath, and jerked his head slightly. "I'll get on to it..." He sighed, and slowly walked off, looking down.

Tinsley looked to the body, and frowned, noticing a piece of paper. He pulled on a pair of gloves, and picked up the paper, looking over it. This time, it wasn't a letter, but a picture, a drawing. Tinsley swallowed, licking his chapped lips. It was him, it was a picture of him, crisscross hatched, with the title _Dreamboat Tinsley_ on the top of the drawing like a title, in black ink, and again, in an abundant of swirls and twirls. He couldn't lie, the drawing looked like Tinsley, almost like someone took a picture of him, it was amazing, and perfect realism, shading done well, and... He realised that this would be taken in a evidence, as the letter written to him had been as well. He glanced around, and brought his poetry notebook, and slid the paper into the back of the notebook.

Holly walked over, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, "you should get back, get ready for those interviews."

Tinsley nodded, "right... I'm gonna go..." He walked off, and slid into his car. He took off his hat, and ruffled his hair. He sighed, and drove off. How has he come to solve one case, only to be solving another, that might be linked with his case? He shook his head, as if to rid of his thoughts, focusing on the drive. Has this guy angered Night Night? And, who is this Legs guy? He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Does this mans friends know what he's been doing?

He pulled up in front of the station, and got out, placing the hat on top of his head. He went up the steps, and saw the man from before, files in his arms. The man joined Tinsley, "interview me first."

Tinsley nodded, and looked to the man, "so, what's with the files?"

"Proof, that he's a normal guy... I can see your train of thought, revenge, working with Night Night..." The man shook his head, the two walking into Tinsley's office, "he's the most... Boring guy in the world..."

Tinsley set down his notebook, and looked to the man, "take a seat." The man sat, setting the file down, and Tinsley got out a tin of tissues, "right, now I'm going to ask questions, and if you need to take a break, take a break." The man nodded.

"What's your name?" Tinsley asked, pen in hand.

"John Sanders."

"And who is the man that was killed?" Tinsley asked.

John rubbed his hands together, "Carter... Carter Colt Taylor."

Tinsley paused, but nodded, and finally wrote it down, "what's your job?" John looked up confused, and Tinsley shrugged, "standard questions, sorry."

"Evidence department..." John answered, sighing.

"Can you tell me about Carter?" Tinsley asked, softly.

John swallowed, and nodded, "right... He and I were good friends. He was... Twenty one, turning twenty two next month." He sighed, "he worked as an accountant, proof's in the files. He was boring, normal. I met him on a case a year ago, evidence led to his agency and I asked questions."

"He owned an agency?" Tinsley asked, frowning.

John laughed, albeit it was bitterly. If his friend was alive, and not brutally killed, the laughter would have been loud, and humour filled, "god no, he wasn't that smart, a bumbling idiot if I'm honest." He shrugged, "just got the job when I met, and well... We didn't have a good laugh, but a good debate about ghosts and demons." He sighed.

Tinsley wrote down information, "did he have any enemies? People who didn't like him?"

"Tinsley, he doesn't even leave the house on the weekend. He leave the house for work, and to go grocery shopping, and then heads home. I saw the guy five times in a year, one this year. No enemies, didn't talk to anyone enough to create enemies." John shrugged, hands folded together.

Tinsley wrote it down, and nodded, "right... Is there anything else?"

John shook his head, "no... His Mom will be here in thirty minutes, and the other guy, Mike will be here in an hour or so..."

Tinsley nodded, "right, thank you John. Take the day off, okay?"

"You can't do that, Horsley has the control." John sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"I'll take it up with her if I need to, now, go home John." Tinsley assured, jerking his head to the door.

John smiled slightly, "thanks Tinsley." He stood up, and left.

Tinsley rubbed his face, but John was right. As far as Tinsley could tell, he was a boring guy. He flipped through the file, and it was true, there was no weird or strange activity. He was a normal, boring guy. He sighed, and rubbed his eyes tiredly, sniffing and looked to the clock, waiting for the Mother. He waited, and rubbed his forehead. Maybe the friend or mother has new information?

A knock sounded at the door, and he got up. He walked over, and opened up the door. There stood a woman, shaggy hair, and brown eyes, short, and chubby, "hello dear... A-are you, Detective Tinsley?"

Tinsley nodded, and held out a hand, "ma'am, I'm Detective Tinsley, and who are you?"

"I'm Carters mother..." She sniffed, and Tinsley saw her eyes were red, and puffy. "Alice Taylor..."

Tinsley opened the door, and pulled up a chair for her, "come in..."

Alice shuffled in, and sat. Tinsley sat opposite her, and handed over tissues, and that set off the waterworks. She pulled out a tissue, and sobbed into it, wiping away her tears, and her shoulders shaking in sobs. Tinsley felt awful, riddled with guilt, he really didn't want to ask questions, and so, he waited, until she nodded for him to ask away.

"What's your name?"

"A-Alice Taylor... Ca-Carter's mother..." Sniffed Alice, and again began crying and sniffing.

"Do you work?" Tinsley asked.

Alice shook her head, smiling slightly, "I'm a stay at home mother, and so, I never worked..."

Tinsley nodded, "can you tell me about your son?"

"He's such a good boy. Got average grades, never dated, stayed in his apartment on BullVer block—"

Tinsley interrupted, "BullVer?" _That's where I live..._

Alice nodded, "yes... Worked as an accountant, lowest ranking..." She looked down, and sniffed, "he cared for me, and he never did anything to anger people... He's amazing..." She shook her head, "my son is normal, never did anything illegal, never made any enemies. He was so quiet..."

Tinsley rubbed his face, and nodded, "do you know what he was doing on that night?"

"He came to my house. We were having tea, and cakes. He was talking about work, about how he hoped to get a promotion, he went home just after midnight... Told me he'd call when he'd get home, but... He never did..." She sobbed, and wiped her eyes.

This was getting him nowhere, this man was boring, normal, and there was genuinely no reason for this man to be killed. It was the same with Mike, he too is an accountant, he worked next to Carter. He hoped that he wold get more information, but all he got was that he was a boring man.

He looked to his notes, and sighed, reading over them:

_Carter Colt Taylor, 21_

_Accountant_

_Average grades_

_BullVer Block_

_Sat the same desk each day_

_Cup of coffee black_

_No enemies_

_Good friendship, and relationship with Mom_

_No partner_

He looked at the name, and then looked to the picture Alice gave him. The name initials form is _C. C. T_. - his initials, lives in BullVer - his apartment building, he even... Wait, what was it that guy said to him? _Body looks kinda like you, huh Tinsley?_

Tinsley stood up in shock, eyes wide as he ran a hand through his hair. The killer was mocking him, taunting him with the body, with the name and building. He swallowed harshly and in shock.

The door opened, and Holly walked in, "Tinsley, why did you send John home?"

Tinsley looked to her, "he's useless when in distress. If you're here to yell or discipline me, I'm sorry but I'm not interest..."

Holly gave him a once over, and nodded, crossing her arms, "any new information?"

"Carter Colt Taylor. Boring life, no enemies... I think it was a taunt to me..." Tinsley shrugged, "the only clue is Kathy. Francesca Norris was helpful—"

"Yeah, I swear that name sounds familiar..." Holly sighed, "and at first, I thought it was due to the her working at a docking station, but... Now, I'm not too sure..."

Tinsley looked up, and crossed his arms, nodding, "well... Do me a favour, and find out about this Francesca Norris woman, will you?"

Holly nodded, "sure... You okay? What with Taylor?"

"Honestly, freaked out..." Tinsley admitted, looking down. He shook his head, and waved a hand, "I'll be fine, don't worry about me Horsley..."

Holly nodded, "right..." She walked out, closing the door behind her.

Tinsley fell into his chair, and pulled out the drawing. He looked at it, and smiled. He really shouldn't have kept this, he should have given in to evidence, or threw it away, but no... He feels weirdly attached to the drawing, not to mention, the style looks strangely familiar. He smiled, and slipped the drawing into the back of his poetry book again. He picked up his pen, and looked to a clean sheet of paper. He wanted to write a poem, but he didn't have a topic in mind, he wasn't... No, wait... He has a topic. He began to write, and smiled, a topic on mind; Ricky Goldsworth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dreamboat - A very attractive person


	9. suspicious minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C. C. Tinsley and Ricky Goldsworth meet up again, and Tinsley reveals a lot of information.

Walking into the bar that night, and Tinsley smiled, shoulders slouched, and noticed, for the first time in a week, hell years, since the Sodder Case, since the killings by the Golden G. Killer, since the fight with his brother, his parents death, he was relaxed. That's new. He's always tense, and his mind is whirling constantly, but now his mind is on Ricky, who he saw hunched over the table, drawing away with his pencil, and a few red eraser shavings surrounding the book, and table, match stick in his mouth. On the table was an ashtray, a whisky and a beer.

Tinsley grinned, and walked over. He slid into the booth, and sighed, slumping, rubbing his eyes, "hi Ricky." His smile slipping ever so slight;y, the day catching up to him.

Ricky looked up with a smile, but then frowned seeing Tinsley's tired face, "hey, you okay, Tinsy?"

Tinsley opened his mouth and closed his mouth again, thinking. He looked to Ricky's worried face, and sighed, "a body showed up by the Golden G. Killer, and he looked like me, had the same initials as me, lives in the same block as me..." He rubbed his eyes, and Ricky grinned in joy and pride, but felt bad he was stressing Tinsley out.

He rubbed Tinsley's back softly, "I'm so sorry, Clarence."

Tinsley flushed, eyes wide. Nobody calls him Clarence, but wow... He likes how it sounds on Ricky's tongue, He looked up, "well..." He reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out his poetry book. He slipped out the drawing, "he drew me, and left it on the body. Called me a dreamboat."

Ricky looked at the drawing, eyes lit up in happiness and familiarity, which Tinsley saw, but ignored, and he isn't sure why. Maybe because he liked Ricky, the guy is... Amazing. Ricky looked to Tinsley, and smirked, "well, the killer's not wrong. You are a dreamboat." He winked, and Tinsley flushed, making Ricky laugh.

Tinsley took the drawing back, "I feel... Weirdly attached to the drawing... I have no idea why, but... It looks lovely, amazing... I feel special in a fucked up kinda way, y'know?"

"Did you... Steal that from the crime scene?" Ricky asked, whispering quietly, looking around to make sure nobody would hear.

Tinsley sighed, and nodded, "please, don't say anything. Taking, and hiding evidence, tempering with evidence is illegal."

Ricky held up his hands, smiling, "didn't hear a thing, Tinsy baby."

"Thanks Ricky..." Smiled Tinsley, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket.

Ricky pulled out the match stick from his lips, and struck it against the wall. Despite doing this once, it felt like some kind of automatic, rinse and repeat process. Tinsley held the cigarette between his index and middle finger, and the tip between his lips, and he leaned forward. Ricky held the match to the end of the cigarette, lighting it, and pulled it back, blowing out the match, watching as Tinsley took an intake of smoke.

Ricky leaned back, sipping his beer, and hiding his drawing away, "what's happening with The Golden G. Killer?" He asked, and then smiled, "but, don't worry if you can't reveal anything."

Tinsley waved his free hand, "it's fine, it's fine. This guy who was killed is random, well... More of a taunt to me. The woman, Kathy, is friends with a woman called Francesca Norris, she gave information about why she was killed—"

"Francesca Norris?" Ricky asked suddenly, ever so slightly worried.

Tinsley looked to him in shock, and then the shock turned to hope, "do you know her?"

Ricky tensed up, hands clasped in front of him, but his face turned deadpanned, "used to know her. We were friends at one point. But, her friend pissed off my cousin, as she upset my cousins friend. I argued with the friend, and Fran got angry with me, then we fell out. We don't talk much anymore."

"You mention your cousin every once in a while... Who is this cousin?" Tinsley asked, frowning.

Ricky sighed, "I love my cousin, but..." He looked down, he was going to lie, say he loves his cousin, but does't want people to know that they're cousins since he's embarrassing. But, with everything Tinsley's been telling him, and wrongly trusting him, making guilt eat Ricky up alive, he diced to tell some truth. "He's not exactly friends with the law, never has been. And, I gotta keep him safe..."

Tinsley nodded, pausing in thought, "I get that." He took another puff of smoke.

Ricky took a gulp of his beer, and Tinsley sipped his whisky. Ricky looked to Tinsley, "does she have any clue as to who the killer is?"

"Some guy with the initials G and R..." Tinsley sighed, shrugging.

Ricky swallowed, either Tinsley was stupid, or he was ignoring the glaring obvious killer sat in front of him. Tinsley isn't stupid, Ricky knows that, and he knows it'll click together like a puzzle piece at some point.

Tinsley smiled shyly, scratching the back of his head, "I... Uh..." Ricky looked over, eyebrow raised, and Tinsley took a shaky breath. He smiled, and shyly admitted, "I wrote a poem... About you..."

Ricky smiled, and sat up straighter, "you did?" Tinsley nodded, and Ricky asked, "can I read it?"

Tinsley nodded, and shyly opened his book. He paused, as if questioning, and regretting his life decisions that brought him to this very moment. He took a shaky breath, and shoved it in front of Ricky, "please, hurry before I change my mind."

Ricky smiled, and took it, and began to read.

_The Strangest Friendship To Have Been Made_

_New York is new and strange too,_

_Thought I'd hate it, till I met you._

_You're a great guy, cool and fun,_

_And as friends go, I've clearly have won._

_People like you come once in a life,_

_And I don't care if sap makes you strife._

_And all thanks you Ricky,_

_You make me feel giddy._

Ricky stared, eyes wide, and he read it again, and again, and again. He looked to Tinsley who looked nervous, and he smiled, taking Tinsley's hand, pushing the book back, "I love it, thank you Clarence..."

Tinsley smiled, and took the book, tearing the page out, and shyly handing he page back, "keep it..."

Ricky stared, and smiled in excitement. He took the page, "thank you..." He opened his sketch book, and slipped it in the back.

Tinsley smiled, but then slowly frowned, noticing a page torn out from Ricky's sketchbook. Was that there yesterday?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a poet, but I'm trying (and failing).


	10. think that we connect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C. C. Tinsley gets a flower, and begins to connects the dots.

Six or seven dark green leaves attached to a green long stemmed rose lay out in front of Tinsley. He blinked at the rosebud that flourished on the stem, the rose petals are large, and a deep red, with a fake crystal heart in the middle of the rose, and glitter on the rim, and thorns stuck out from the stem, and it looked like they would stab and pierce anyone who would hold the flower.

Tinsley knelt down in front of the rose. It would have been romantic, had it not been on a dead female body, which has been stabbed forty times with a knife, not just a knife, but a talon her throat has been slit open, and her finger nails and teeth were pulled from the skin, and there's a golden _G_ pained on her face, fully clothed.

He stared at body, and the rose, noticing the curled hair. "It's Francesca Norris..." He cursed quietly, realising he lost his one and only lead. He rubbed his eyes, "fuck..." He looked to the rose on her body, and glared. He should give it in to the evidence department, he should give it to John, but... It's truly the prettiest rose he's ever seen. And it was for him, all for him, or at least he's assuming it's for him, as that drawing and letter was for him. He glanced around and noticed nobody was looking, and so, he reached down and grabbed the flower, and hid it inside his trench coat, and then stuffed his hands into his pockets again.

"Who called it in?" Tinsley asked, looking at Holly who stood a little far away, looking over what she thought was blood, which it wasn't upon further inspection, it was just red paint.

Holly shrugged, "some random guy, voice smooth like caramel. Called in from a telephone booth, so we have no idea who it is. Again."

Tinsley sighed, "it could very well be the killer."

"If it is, he's mocking us!" Holly sneered, and clenched her hands angrily.

"Do we know if she has any friends? Or, any family?" Tinsley asked, arms crossed in confusion.

Holly shook her head, "no friends, no family. Ms. Norris has a complicated life..."

"What do you mean?" Tinsley asked, writing down the new body. Why was she killed? Was it because she was friends with Kathy?

"I found a file on Francesca Norris." Holly said, and whispered quietly, "and, she's not who she says she is. Her main job isn't working at a docking station." Tinsley looked to her confused, frowning. Holly jerked her head to Tinsley's car in the street, "get to your office, there's a file about her on your desk."

Tinsley nodded, "thank you, Horsley." He walked off, leaving Francesca's body behind. He slid into the drivers seat, and took off his hat with a sigh. He reached into his coat, and pulled out the rose. He carefully held the stem, twirling it in his fingers, mindful of the thorns. His sloth like eyes lowered softly, and gently traced his index finger over the rim of the petals. He smiled fondly, yet he was hurt. It felt like he knew this man, like he understood him, almost like a friend he just made, a friend he wanted to... Kiss. He shuddered.

At that sinful confession to himself, he realised how true that was. And, he's not talking about kissing this killer, he's talking about Ricky Goldsworth. He wouldn't mind taking Ricky by his collar, and pulling him up and planting a soft, yet hungry kiss on his pink tinted lips. He grinned, scratching the back of his neck, he's never kissed a man with a moustache. Hell, he's never kissed a man.

Taking a shaky breath in, full of self hatred, and disgust, and drove off to the station. Is he into men? He's had one relationship in his short life of twenty one years, and it was a woman. She was brunette, tightly curled hair, short. She was adorable, cute and friendly, but they just didn't work, and broke up a few weeks before prom. Her name was Sara Rubin, a really sweet gal.

He pulled up in front of the station, hiding the rose again, and got out the car, taking his hat and placing it on his head. He went up the steps, and went to his office, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. He paused just outside his door, realising there was no Ricky Goldsworth to pull the match stick from between his soft pink lips, and strike the match, and light up his cigarette with a small grin. He sighed, the thought of looking for a match or some form of lighter not even crossing her mind, he just rubbed his eyes tiredly, and kept the cigarette between his lips gently.

Finally, he walked into his office, and immediately saw a pale beige file, with the name Francesca Norris written on with a typewriter. He moved over, shutting the door, and sat down in his chair. He pushed the file away slightly, tired. He pulled out his poetry book, and thought back to Ricky, and smiled. He began writing immediately, now having a slightly clear mind on Ricky Goldsworth, but was more focused on writing down notes about him. It was almost like some kind of scrambled confession, yet to be pulled together.

He smiled, tapping the tip of the pen, and his eyes softened at the thought of Ricky Goldsworth. He gently pattec his coat, and pulled out the flower, smiling, and he set it down so it didn't get more crumpled. He finally looked to the file, and sighed. He pushed his book to the side, pages still open and pen thrown to the side too, and he dragged the file back to him, and slowly opened it.

This was not what he was expecting. Francesca Norris was not an owner of a docking station, but was in fact a spy, for a group called _The Pink Panthers_. Even he knew who The Pink Panthers were, a group of people mainly in Europe, robbing bonks in elaborate ways, and terrible pink wigs, and when a group were found, they didn't know each other. It was confusing.

He shook his head, and pulled out his notebook, and grabbed his pen again, and began writing. _Spy, Pink Panthers, possibly from Europe_. He turned the page in the case file and kept reading. He read a sentence which shocked him. _Francesca Norris went missing in 1938, and was found in New York. Rumours say she works with "Night Night" Bergara, and "Legs" Madej, who nobody can link to crimes. She's their spy now._

Tinsley stared, and stared some more. She worked with Night Night and Legs? And, her friend Kathy was a receptionist. Was that a lie? No, no, because she lied of some things, such as her job. But, she sounded angry. Why would she lie about Kathy's job? He flipped through the notes, trying to see if there was any other connection, and finally found something that showed she wasn't lying about Kathy, or at least not completely. _Worked with a woman, and best friend, Kathy Samson, a spy, and Norris' partner._

He got up, and went out the office, leaving behind his notes and pen, cigarette in his lips still. He walked down the office, and immediately saw Holly walking into the station, with her hands in her pockets, and annoyed. He walked up to her, "Horsley?"

Holly looked up, and scowled, "yes, Detective?"

"Do you have a file on Night Night?" Tinsley asked, frowning.

Holly stared at the cigarette between his lips, but nodded, "yes, yes I do, but it's a small file— I'm sorry, but why do you have an unlit cigarette?"

"Well, you see Ri—," Tinsley paused, realising just how stupid he was. He could have just gotten a match or lighter, but to say; 'Oh, yeah, Ricky wasn't here to light it', just sounds stupid. He swallowed, "uh, I don't have a lighter."

Holly scoffed slightly, tutting, and she fished into her purse, pulling out a silver lighter, and flicked the flint, and moved it to the cigarette butt, and lit it. She let go of the flint, and put it back in her purse, "honestly. I'll get that file." She walked off.

Tinsley blinked, and noted how he just wanted to pull away from her, despite her helping, Only Ricky could do that, or at least only Ricky had his okay for that. He shook his head; not the thing to focus on right now. He slowly made it back to his office, where he saw another file on his desk, this one titled "Night Night" Bergara.

He walked over, and sat down, opening the case file. There wasn't much on this Night Night guy, just a list what he's done - supposedly. Moved from Texas to New York, but Tinsley already had that written down. He shook his head, there's nothing here to help him. He flipped a page, taking out his cigarette and tapped the ash off, and put it back to his lips. He paused, noticing pictures, and so he looked through them.

It was a man with black, slicked back hair, well built, tanned, and looked like someone he knew. He looked through more pictures. There was a few pictures with Francesca Norris, with her next to Night Night as if listening to him, others with Francesca and Night Night pointing to a map. Then there was some with Night Night talking to a group of people, or with two people, or as if leading a group of people. Most of these pictures were from a distance, as if someone was hiding to take the pictures. But, there was an abundance of pictures with Night Night and another guy.

This guy is white, tall, with a navy blue suit, slicked back brown hair... He looks so... Non-threatening... He... He actually looks nice. There was so many of this guy and Night Night; Holding hands, kissing, eating and getting coffee together. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. Who is this guy? Was this "Legs" Madej?

Tinsley shot up, dropping the cigarette in the ashtray, grabbing a picture with Legs in, and rushed out to Holly's office. He knocked on the door, and waited slightly impatiently. A female voice said, "come in," and Tinsley walked in. Holly sighed, and looked up, annoyed, "yes, Detective?"

He set down the picture, and pointed to the white, tall guy, "is this Legs?"

Holly crossed her arms, "yes, why?"

"Do you have a file on him?" Tinsley asked, tapping his foot annoyed. Seriously, give him one file and not others?

"Look, Legs has literally nothing on him." Holly said, annoyed, but she ultimately got up, pulled out a filing cabinet, and flipped through them, "you won't find anything on him, Night Night covers for him constantly." She pulled out a file, and handed it to him.

Tinsley took it, "thank you."

Holly nodded, and watched as Tinsley turned to leave. She sighed, and crossed her arms, "what are you doing tonight?"

Tinsley paused at the door, hand on the handle slightly, and slowly turned to her, letting his fingers trail off from the handle, "what?"

"What are you doing tonight?" Holly asked again, shrugging.

Tinsley blinked, and opened his mouth, but then closed again, "why?"

"I'm asking if you want to go for a drink tonight." Holly sighed, rolling her eyes. She smiled, "I mean, you kinda came from a quiet place into a loud busy place, you need a break. Clearly." She waved her hand to the file now in Tinsley's hand, "look at you, you're going for a lead who has nothing on him, and has nothing to do with the case."

"Francesca is dead. Kathy is dead. They worked with Night Night, and The Golden K. Killer killed them both. There's a link." Tinsley said, face blank.

Holly sighed, "you're missing the point. Tinsley, do you want to go out tonight?"

Tinsley stood straighter, and stiffly shook his head, "uh, no... I'm-I'm not looking for something right now." He lied. He's not looking for anything with Holly... He was with Ricky. "I have to go, I have work. Thank you, Detective Horsley." He walked off, ignoring Holly's face fall to one of anger, then embarrassment.

Tinsley sighed, and walked into his office, the cigarette now burnt out. He closed the door, and sat in his office chair, and opened the file labelled "Legs" Madej. He opened the file, and hated to admit it, but Holly was right. There's barely any information on Legs, just that he came from Texas and moved to New York, kind of like Night Night, and that he works with Night Night. There was pictures in the file though, very few.

He looked through them, there wasn't many. Five. Only five! He looked through them. One was just of Legs, and another was of Legs holding onto Night Night, kissing his forehead and Night Night cuddling him. Another was of Legs with Francesca the two talking. Another was of Legs with a gun aimed away, and finally one was of Legs with a file. He sighed, and rubbed his face, looking through the photographs. He skimmed them, tired, and squinted at one of the pictures. Specifically the one with Legs and Night Night. He leaned closer, seeing two figures in the background talking to each other, walking past the two, barely seen. He swallowed, and clenched his hand, glaring and shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My WiFi has stopped working today, and usually I write everything on my laptop. But, I didn’t want to let you guys down, I know that this can be some form of stress relief. So, I’ve done this on my phone, I hope it turned out alright!


	11. hundreds of confessions without success

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C. C. Tinsley knows who Ricky Goldsworth is, and gains of confession from him.

Tinsley walked into the bar that afternoon, hair a mess under his hat, rose clasped in his hand, this time ignoring the thorns that were mercilessly stabbing his fingers and finger tips, and in the other hand was a photograph.

There sat Ricky, sketchbook open, and pencil in hand, shading away, signature match stick between his lips. He saw his gifted poem out on the table, and a full beer and whisky. Ricky was wearing a blissful smile, with soft eyes.

Tinsley sighed and walked over, sliding into the booth tense, hands clenched, and toes curled, his shoulders up to his ears.

Ricky looked over and smiled, eyes gleaming in delight seeing the rose in his hand, “hey Tinsy!” He looked to the man’s face, but his blissful and happy smile turned to a frown. Tinsley was looking at him in anger and frustration, his eyes narrowed to a point and an ugly frown on his face. “What’s wrong, Clarence?”

Tinsley slammed a photograph on the table, a hard look on his face.

Ricky frowned, and leaned over. In the photograph was Legs and Night Night, cuddling each other, and being a cutesy couple. At first Ricky was confused, unsure as to why Tinsley was showing him this. He squinted and paled. There in the background of the picture was two figures, not just any figures; Ricky and Francesca, walking behind them, and talking to each other. Swallowing, Ricky looked at Tinsley nervously, now methodically chewing the match stick.

Tinsley stared at Ricky, angry, frustrated, but most of all, hurt and betrayed, “explain. Now. Why are you in the background of that picture. Did you kill all those people. Or just Francesca and Kathy. Do you know these two.”

_Those are not questions, they’re demands,_ Ricky noted, horrified.

He looked down, pale, his stomach churning, almost as if he’s going to be sick. He opened it mouth, allowing the match stick to fall to the table, but snapped his jaw shut again, hesitantly. He took a deep breath, his hands shaking, “I...” He looked up, and noticed Tinsley had his notebook out, pen in hand, and he looked down again. “I wanted to make a name for myself...” He admitted. “I come from a small town in Chicago, where men live and die, and are forgotten. I came here about five months ago... See, I just got outta jail and, god it’s shit... I needed to make a name for myself, and get the hell outta there, doing a couple jobs a year. And because of that, I'll be rich, I'll have wealth and fame... Everyone will know my name!” He sighed.

”What?” Tinsley asked, frowning, twirling the pen in his fingers.

Ricky gripped his beer, “y-y’know? Like Billy the Kid, and Mister Capone. I had the dream that every kid will idolise Ricky Goldsworth... I called up my cousin Night Night, and asked if I could stay with him. He said sure, so I stole the car, and got the hell outta there. I began to rob banks, earn money. And I killed people, some for Revenge of upsetting my cousin and his boyfriend, Legs. And others for fun.”

”So you killed Kathy because...?”

”Because she called Legs useless, and it upset Night Night, so I killed her. Dampened my friendship with Franny.” Ricky chugged his beer, trying to ease is nerves, eyes red and full of tears. “And I killed Fran cause she gave ya too much information...”

”So, you left that drawing and rose...?” Tinsley asked, chewing his lip.

Ricky nodded, “I happen to like ya, Tinsy... I had to leave you somethin’... Carrying a slight torch for you...” He sighed, shaking. He shook his head, and gripped Tinsley’s hand, “please. Do whatever you want with me, but I’m begging you, leave Night Night and Legs alone.”

Tinsley felt Ricky’s hands shaking, and noticed the panicked look in his eyes. He flipped his hands and held Ricky’s quivering hands, feeling guilt ridden for scaring his friend, “I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry...”

Ricky’s eyes widened, and then softened, looking to the notebook, he then relaxed, seeing Tinsley had written non of his confession down, “t-thank you...”

Tinsley nodded, “Ricky... I hate to say this, but I do care for you.”

Ricky laughed, “yeah right.” He sipped his drink, and looked over to him, frowning, “Tinsley, did you... Prick yourself?”

Tinsley looked down, and shrugged, “maybe... I was too angry to think straight, so...”

Ricky sighed, and took his hand gently, seeing the slight bloody hands with poked skin. He shook his head, and got up, “wait here...” He walked to the bartender, that Tinsley noted was bald and his skin brown, “Billy? You got any water, whisky and bandages?”

Billy glared, and looked over, seeing Tinsley watching them, blood hand clenched. He looked back to Ricky, “what’s up with your buddy?”

”He fell on the job today, banged his hand up pretty bad. Hurry up, Bill.” Ricky sighed, tapping his fingers against the table, glaring, and his other hand pushing back his coat, revealing the golden handle, and silver blades talon knife.

Billy swallowed, “look, I do business with your family, and I kept my mouth shut about the detective. But, you kill me—“

Ricky rolled his eyes, “Banjo will kill me? Please, I know the guy, he’s harmless. Now, hurry it up before your face is plastered in an unsolved file!” He snarled.

Billy tensed, “right...” He rushed off, and pulled out a roll of bandages, a full bottle of whisky and a cloth, and a bowl of water.

Ricky picked up the cloth and bandage, tucking it under his arms, and holding the whisky and bowl of water. He walked to Tinsley, and set them down, sitting next to him.

He held out his hand, and Tinsley gave it to him. He moved Tinsley’s hand to the bowl and dipped it in, ignoring when Tinsley hissed for the cold pricking his wounds. The two watched the blood swirl in the water.

”How long was you in jail for?” Tinsley asked, quietly.

”Two years.” Ricky smiled slightly, and pulled Tinsley’s hand out. He took his hand and dried it off with the cloth slightly. He set his hand down, and opened the whisky.

”Any stories from that time?” Tinsley asked, watching.

Ricky poured the whisky onto the cloth, and looked to him, “it’s gonna hurt...” He gently dabbed the cloth onto the wounds, and Tinsley hissed, and snatched his hand away. Ricky pulled his hand back, and continued to clean the wounds, “yes, there are stories. One is, I nearly cut off a few toes to get out of doing service... Luckily, I was let out before I did...”

Tinsley bit his lip, “careful, careful!”

Ricky chuckled, “Sorry Clarence...” He looked up, and gently caressed his face, “any other questions?”

Tinsley smiled, “any lovers?”

Ricky smiled, and pulled out the bandages. He wrapped clean cloth around his hand, “one. Her name was Marielle Scott...” He wrapped the bandages around Tinsley hand, “we hit it off well, but we just fell out of love. Good friend though.”

Tinsley smiled, and looked down, “was it really because you had a lack of money?”

”Yes, and no...” Ricky said, securing the bandage in place, “also for a bit of fun, you know? The killings are apart of the job with Night, and some are just fun. And banks are for money.”

Tinsley grinned, and cheeky gleam in his eyes, pulling his bandage hand back, “just don’t get caught, Ricky.”

Ricky laughed, a small smile gracing his lips and pearly whites shining, “I won’t! Don’t worry!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carry a torch - Secretly admire them or love them


	12. (you're the) devil in disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden G. Killer is caught, and C. C. Tinsley faces a dilemma.

Loud ringing echoed Tinsley's room.

Tinsley, who had just woken up, slowly shuffled over to the telephone. His dreams last night was a moral dilemma, filled with dreams and nightmares; Does he turn Ricky in? Does he keep this a secret? On one hand he could have a very good friendship with Ricky, or _even_ a relationship with the guy. But, he also had nightmares where Ricky turned him over to Night Night, or he was killed by Ricky. Maybe he should start bringing a gun with him? So that way he too has a weapon in case someone tries to attack.

He buttoned the final button on his white shirt, and picked up the telephone, "hello, Detective Tinsley speaking. How may I help you?"

"Tinsley! It's Horsley!" Came Holly's voice, one of joy and glee.

Tinsley smiled, rolling his eyes, "you seem happy, Detective Horsley." He pulled on his trench coat, and sat down, grabbing his white socks, and scuffed shoes.

"I am!" Holly squealed in excitement, "and, you'll be happy too!"

"How come?" Tinsley asked, slipping on the socks, and then finally the shoes. He glanced to his hand, the bandages fresh, and less, so he's now able to move his hand.

"You can finally relax!" Holly gushed, smiling. "The Golden G. Killer was caught early this morning!"

Tinsley paused, mid slipping on his left shirt, "what?" Surely, surely no. No way could Ricky have been caught, he promised to be safe, he promised to not be caught.

"The Golden G. Killer was caught!" Smiled Holly, sounding as if she won over a billion dollars. "His name's Goldsworth, apparently he's had issues with the law in the past! Shot up a gas station!"

"H-how?! How did you catch the guy?!" Tinsley asked, panicked.

"He was caught in a bank heist!" Holly grinned, "he got little too cocky, I'd say. Got hostages, shot up a few people, and finally got the back apparently. Police got on the scene and now he's here."

Tinsley got up, "I'll be there soon. I want to meet him before anyone interrogates him." He slammed the telephone down, hanging up. He grabbed his poetry book, and slammed his hat onto his head, slipping a gun into his pocket. He got up, and rushed out the door, bumping into Clara, "oh!"

Clara looked up, holding onto Tinsley's arms steadying him, "woah, Tinsley. You okay? What's the rush?"

"I just got news from the station!" Tinsley said, voice shaky in worry. "I-I'm sorry, Clara! Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Clara smiled, and waved a hand, "I'm fine, deary. You get to that station." She patted his cheek.

Tinsley smiled, but didn't waist any time, rushing off and down the stairs. He nearly fell over his long legs, and he definitely missed a few steps near the end. He threw the door open, and ran to his car, jumping in, he didn't even take off his hat as he drove off, breaking limits as he did to get to the station. He practically kicked the door open, and stumbled out of the, barely registering that he grabbed his hat

He stumbled up the steps, and rushed to Holly Horsley's office. He knocked on the door, and rushed in without waiting for clarification, "Horsley, which room is The Golden G. Killer in?"

Holly looked up from a report she was writing, and crossed her arms on her desk, "what Tinsley?" Her eyes were hard, harsh, and cold.

"Which room is the killer in?" Tinsley asked, harshly, glaring at the woman. Honestly, he didn't have time for this.

"Interrogation Room Nine. Why?"

Tinsley didn't answer, he turned and rushed down the hallway, cheeks flushed a slight red. He saw on officer walk down the hall, coming from Interrogation Room Nine. He gave the man a once over, seeing the keys attached to his belt. What was his name? Jones? He smiled, and went with it, "Officer Jones!" He greeted with a nod, patting the mans shoulder, letting his hand slide down.

Officer Jones smiled, nervous, "Detective Tinsley." He nodded, and the two continued their ways.

Tinsley glanced behind him, making sure the man hadn't noticed, and he relaxed, pocketing to the keys. He moved to the door of Interrogation Room Nine.

The door was gray, with no window, it was thick, almost like the suspect was already imprisoned. He sighed, preparing himself and opened the door with a creak. The room was small, windowless, made out of unpainted bricks, the room was cold, cramped, tow chairs and a desk. In one of the chairs was his friend, and sudden gay awakening, Ricky Goldsworth, wrists cuffed to the table in front of him, wrists red and raw from consistent struggling, and pulling, with sharp narrowed eyes, and for once, no match stick in his mouth.

Ricky looked up from the cold, silver handcuffs with a hate filled glare, but softened seeing Tinsley at the door. He chuckled a dark, humourless chuckle, "it's like you looked into a fucking crystal ball."

Tinsley stared, and shut the door with a slam. He stormed over to Ricky, eyes annoyed and panicked, and Ricky pulled back, as far as his cuffed wrists would let him, and then some, the metal digging into his wrists painfully, "woah! Hold on!" He tensed up, as if waiting to be hit, a natural response in his line of work.

Tinsley slammed his hands onto the desk, "what the hell, Ricky?!" He hissed between his teeth.

Ricky shrugged, palms faced up, "it's not like I put my hands up, and said; _Hey, I'm here, and I'll stand here. Get me_!"

Tinsley sighed, and rubbed his eyes tiredly, face scrunched up in a dilemma again. He has two options. Option number one, is to leave. He can leave now, and let the law deal with Ricky, Ricky off his mind, Ricky no longer in his life, and no longer his problem. He cold get back to the case he _should_ be working: The Sodder Case. He gets information, he gets questioning from a lead, and another lead. Ricky wouldn't be in his life anymore. Option number two, is to help him. Release him, and sneak him out. Keep Ricky in his life, and ask private questions, and figure out about The Sodder Case still.

He chewed his lip nervously, and sighed. He made up his mind. Standing up, he placed his hands into his pockets, seemingly casually. He pulled out one hand, and in his hand was a gun. Ricky sat up straight in shock, and Tinsley moved over, bending over, and slipping the gun into his pocket.

"Since when do you carry a gun?" Ricky asked quietly, the two face to face, their noses mere centimetres from brushing together, maybe less then that.

Tinsley reached into Ricky's coat pocket, and grinned, "decided this morning, after you told me you work with Night Night. Who knows who'll kill me?" He joked, long fingers messing in Ricky's pocket, and pulling out a box of matches. He gently placed one in between Ricky's soft, pink lips. Ricky smiled, gently holding the match stick between his lips.

He pulled out the keys from his pocket, and carefully unlocked Ricky's handcuffs. He looked to Ricky's eyes again, the two still close together, "a few more people will come in before Horsley. She'll be the one to interrogate you." Ricky blinked, eyes wide, and Tinsley continued, "be careful, and please. Don't throw me under the bus, Ricky." How pathetic, begging a serial killer, and bank thief to cover for him. He nervously glanced to Ricky from the handcuffs.

Ricky stared at Tinsley in shock, and surprise, eyes wide and lips in a cute 'o' shape. His shock turned to warm smile, and nodded, "wouldn't dream of it, Clarence..."

Tinsley nodded, a small smile on his, "see you tonight?" Ricky nodded, and Tinsley continued, "my place. No doubt the entire station will be after you." He smirked, and Ricky laughed lightly, smiling.

Tinsley smiled, and got up, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the title IS an Elvis Presley song. I am sorry, but I don't know what else to call this.


	13. time to escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ricky Goldsworth escapes.

Wrists red, and raw, and now free from the handcuffs, Ricky kept his wrists to the table it was previously handcuffed to. He'd wait a few moments, let a few people in, that way nobody would know who let him out, and how. Maybe it was Dave and a key? Jones? Maybe nobody realised, and Ricky somehow pick pocketed. Who gave him the gun? Did he always have that? Did they search him?

Ricky glared at each person who entered the room, and shortly left after. There was an officer, holding a file, he set the said file down, and the left. There was a detective, setting down a notebook and pen, and then he left. Another came in and set down a coffee, leaving again. Then there was a guy from evidence, taking something from the file, and leaving again. He groaned, and slammed his head onto the desk. Jesus Christ, these fella's are ridiculous! He's about to snap his cap, he swears to god!

Holly walked in suddenly, file in hand with questions written on. Ricky sat up straighter, "whore-y Horsley" He mocked, a cold smirk on his face. He'd escape with her as witness.

Holly smiled tightly, angrily, looking to the man in front of her. He certainly wasn't intimidating, actually, he looks like a whiny brat. She replied sarcastically, "yes, very good alliteration."

"If you finish that sentence with; _not_ , I'm actually gonna laugh." Ricky smiled, and felt himself holding back a laugh, seeing Holly turn fifty shades of red, all with some form of anger, maybe one or two of embarrassment.

She slammed her hands on the desk, file clattering onto the metal table, "listen here, you little shit!"

Ricky decided this was the perfect time to escape, and so, pulled out the gun Tinsley gave him, revealing his wrists were free. Holly's eyes widened and reached behind her, but frowned, now patting his body, and cursed quietly. Ricky chuckled darkly, rising from his seat, and Holly backed up, hands raised.

She looked him over, _since when did he have a match stick in his mouth? He didn't have one when he came in._ She then noticed his red, and raw wrists, _someone helped him out... He's been struggling..._ She realised.

Ricky jerked the gun to the side of the room, as the only thing between him and the door was her, "outta my way, bitch!"

Holly moved instantly, she has no gun and no form of back up, she did not want to die.

Rushing to the door, Ricky gave her a once over, and stuck his head out, looking down the hall. Roughly, scattered along he hall is a dozen cops, maybe more. A few detectives here, and there. A receptionist or two, and a few from the evidence department. He looked to Holly one last time, and dragged here to the desk, handcuffing her wrists to it, before taking a deep breath.

Holly's eyes widened in shock, and struggled, "hey!"

He shushed her, hissing and glaring, then looked to the door again, poking his head out. Does he have a plan? Yes. Is it simple? Yes. And this plan is; to wing it, start slow and then run. He slowly pushed open the door, and shut it behind. He tucked his hands into his pockets, and put his head down, not looking to anyone.

He slowly walked down the hall, at first nobody looked to him, and it seemed this winging it plan worked. Maybe he should do this more often?

An officer looked up, sipping a hot coffee, and paused, seeing Ricky. He dropped the coffee, and pointed, "Goldsworth!"

Okay, never mind, time to run! Ricky pulled his trench coat closer to his body, as he ran down the hall now in a full sprint. Officers pulled out guns, as Ricky shoved his way through people, pushing them out the way and down. A few officers who had clear shots, or were certain they wouldn't hit anyone else, they took the shot.

Ricky fell to his knees and hid behind the desk, a few people took shots, but soon stopped. They paused, and one of them decided to walk closer to check, but Ricky stood up and shot the mans shoulder, making him howl out in pain, while Ricky ran again.

As the man fell, Ricky glanced behind him, running, to see Tinsley just outside the hall, watching him in worry, a silent plea to be safe. Ricky grinned, and winked, running out the station. He jumped down, three steps at a time, but jumped the last five, rolling as he landed. People screamed as he jumped into a police car, dragging the driver out, and drove off.

He's in the clear. Or that's what he thought as he looked into the rear view mirror, and cursed, "shit!" He was being tailed by a few officers, three cars, all with two officers in, so that's six guys he's gotta shake off! He leaned out the window slightly, and turned to them, shoot at the wheels of their cars.

He missed the first three times, hitting the bonnet, or the floor, but finally he hit one of the wheels, which suddenly swerved them, but managed to pull over before doing damage.. He looked forward, and got control of the steering again, and tensed around the wheel. That's one car, and two officers down. He looked out again, and began shooting at the second car, but this time he got lucky, and hit with the first bullet. And it wasn't the tire, the bullet shot through the glass, and lodged itself into the drivers head, the car swerving dangerously, and crashing into a building. Well, that car is down, as well as another two officers, this time they might actually be dead. Now, the last car.

The final car was speeding up, and Ricky tried to hit it, but missed, each time. Of course, just his luck it went okay the first time, and stunningly the second, but the last, oh no! He can't hit it! He kept shooting, and missing, running out of bullets, and so, threw the gun at the cars front window. He turned to the front, and looked up to the sky, or well, roof of the car, and yelled, "damn you, God! You useless shit!"

They were right behind him, and he had to think fast. He looked down, and bit his lip, gnawing at until his lip began to bleed. One option, and he's not too happy about it. He counted to three in his head, _one, two, three..._ He swerved his car harshly, making it turn and lean onto it's side. Ricky jumped out at the last minute, as the car rolled on it's side.

The officer car pulled over, and grabbed their guns, rushing over, but by the time they got there, Ricky was long gone.

It was easy enough for Ricky to hide, the streets busy, bustling with people, and just blended with the said hustle and bustle, head down, and hands in pockets, still messing with the match stick between his lips. If he focus' he can still taste Tinsley's fingers on the match when running his tongue over the wood, creepy he knows, but the detective had made a large impact on his life.

He's now further away from the scene, and saw a random car, open, and on. He looked around, and jumped into the car, and drove off. He relaxed, sighing. Night Night is gonna kill him. He took a long way home, putting off the inevitable, and finally pulled up just a a few houses away from Night Night and Legs house. He dragged his feet to the house, head down, and opened the door.

"Legs? Night? I'm home..."

Night Night rushed out, eyes wide in panic, and cupped his cousins cheeks, "Ricky! What happened?! News spread about you being the golden killer!"

Ricky laughed tiredly, "yeah... They caught me. Tinsley helped me out..."

Legs rushed out, "Rick? You okay?" He set his cousin-in-law down on the sofa, to be fair he never checked if 'cousin-in-law's' was a thing, but he made it a thing.

Ricky stared at Legs, "why did you give up being a lawyer?"

Legs paused in shock, but then smiled, "fell in love with Night Night... You'd be surprised what people do for love, Ricky..."

Ricky hummed, and lay on his back, "right..."

"You gonna be okay?" Night Night asked, frowning in worry.

Ricky waved his hand, "I'm fine, I'm fine... Just... Just give me a few, okay?"

Night Night went to protest, but Legs wrapped an arm around his waist, "come on, darling. Lets give him some space..."

Night Night sighed, "right..."

The two walked away, Night Night glancing to Ricky in worry as he did. Ricky stared at the ceiling, one thought on his mind, _Clarence, you're getting wound up in a dangerous world..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snap your cap - Get mad


	14. i just adore you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detective Holly Horsley is getting suspicious, and all C. C. Tinsley is worried about is if Ricky Goldsworth is okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to do all this on my phone, as the WiFi went out, so I hope it worked out okay. If not, I’m sorry and I’ll work it out later when the WiFi is back!

Tinsley sat, arm resting on the arm of the chair, face serious. There was a few other officers and detectives around the table, and Holly paced back and forth, wrists red and slightly raw from the cuffs Ricky slapped on, tightly.

"How the fuck did he get out?! Who was in that room before me!" Holly yelled, slamming her hands onto the desk. She glared at everyone, evil eyes looking at everyone.

A few shaky hands went up, as well as Tinsley's. She looked at them, straightening up, "do you all have your keys on?"

"I didn't have a key to begin with." Tinsley said, arms crossed, he was the most calm out of everyone.

Officer Jones shook, "I-I don't have my keys... I-I lost them, s-soon after, and f-found them on my desk..." Holly opened her mouth, but Jones interrupted, "but! I _know_ that I had the keys as I left the room, because I had walked out, and checked!"

"It's true." Officer Lawrence said, nodding. "I walked past when he was checking." Tinsley swallowed, arms folded.

Holly looked around, "so, you lost your keys, but you had them when you left? Nobody else lost their keys? And Tinsley didn't have keys?"

"I saw Goldsworth, made sure he had nothing on him. Left, greeted Tinsley, and got to my desk. I realised I lost my keys by the time I got to my desk, went and checked on Goldsworth, he hadn't escaped. And then I found them soon after Goldsworth escaped." Jones said, frantically explaining, shaking.

"Wait, how though? He wasn't even near your desk." Officer Thomson spoke up, frowning.

Jones shrugged, eyes wide in fear, "I don't know!"

Lawrence sighed, "Jones is innocent, I assure you."

Holly looked to everyone, panic and fear clear on everyone's face, and they were stressed, coming up with ideas, and some where looking at Jones, others defending him, blaming others, coming up with ways he could have escaped, but Tinsley was the opposite, relaxed and calm, as if nothing could go wrong. She tapped her foot, "Jones, did he have a match stick in his mouth when you was there the first time?"

Tinsley licked his lips, watching her, _what's she playing at?_

Jones shook his head, "no, no match stick. Second time I went, there was."

Everyone began agreeing with him, yes, they saw him with a match stick in his mouth after Jones' first visit, and Tinsley agreed, nervously. He put that match stick in his mouth. Holly noticed, and folded her hands, "did he have that in his mouth when he was brought in?" She got a round of no's and a shrug from Tinsley.

Holly looked to Tinsley, he was relaxed still, but now, just a bit tenser, but not much, "Detective Tinsley?" He hummed in response, sitting straighter, and arms crossed. He's listening. Holly stared him down, "do you know how Ricky got this key?"

Tinsley shivered slightly, his spine snapping up straight, now tense, he swallowed. He noted he didn't like Ricky's name on Holly's tongue, slipping past her lips, it was disgusting in a way, it scared him. "How should I know? I didn't even have a key when going to see who this Goldsworth guy is?"

"Yes, that is true. Do you know how he got that gun?" She asked, bringing up the gun for the first time, tapping her foot.

"Why would I know that? I don't even carry a gun with me!" Tinsley insisted, swallowing harshly. He was tensed up, and panicked looking, something that didn't escape Holly. He stood up abruptly, "look, Goldsworth escaped, the one lead to the Sodder case, so, if you excuse me, I need to go and narrow down where he could have gone."

"Tinsley—"

"It's not my fault you lost two men today due to your arrogance." Tinsley snarled, thinking of the Officer Ricky shot in the head, and when i swerved and hit a wall, it killed the Officer in the passenger seat. But, it was his fault, he stole those keys, he let Ricky loose and gave him the gun. "I have a job to do." He stormed out, swallowing as he did, and shut the door behind him.

Finally, he allowed his shoulders to slump, relaxing, and sighed. He pressed the heal of his hands to his eyes, furiously rubbing them. He was getting involved, slowly but surely. He walked off, dragging his feet to his office, where he collapsed into his chair, limbs loose and dangling, spread every which way and that. He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, and placed it between his lips, but didn't light it. That job's left for Ricky.

_Ricky... Ricky, Ricky, Ricky!_ He stood up quickly, scowling. The chair flew back, and he winced when he heard the red leather and wood swivel chair slam against the hardwood floor. He looked to it, and sighed, rubbing his hand over his forehead, and began pacing in front of his desk. Thinking. Thinking about how he had lost-but-not-really-lost a killer, and how multiple deaths weren't be avenged, about how he caused two more deaths, but the truth of the matter is, his one main thought was if Ricky had made it to wherever he hid safe.

He very well could have been hit in the car chase. He might not have even gone to where he usually does, and gone somewhere else. Someone from Night Night's gang could have shot him for being caught by the police, cousins or not. He might not even show up tonight, opting to hide, and run away, instead of stay and be caught.

It would make sense, Ricky has no obligation to come and visit him tonight. If anything it would be more of a risk, not for Tinsley really, mainly for Ricky. Tinsley might have to accept the fact that he might not see Ricky Goldsworth ever again.

He sighed, and looked down. How did it all come to this? Caring for this man? He's clearly not as straight as he thought he was, but damn it, he just _had_ to go and form a crush on a serial killer and bank thief didn't he? And, the main lead in his case for the Sodder children. Just his rotten luck. Was it when he first heard the man laugh? No, that's stupid, even if Ricky's wheeze made Tinsley's stomach do a hundred somersault. Was it the friendly smile? No, no that's not it. But, he heart does go for a bit of run after seeing Ricky's warm and gentle smile. No, he's certain it was when he first met Ricky, bumping into him when he was grocery shopping, he was so kind, and gentle, a bit of a flirt but he gave him a chance, and now... He's not sure if he regrets that chance or not. But, he knows one things for certain, it really was love at first sight.

_Ugh, love at first sight._ He sneered. Up until he met Ricky he didn't believe in the nonsense that is 'love at first sight', I mean, sure he and Sara are good friends now, but it took a bout a year to 'fall in love' and not too long after they broke up. So, to fall in love the moment you saw someone? Ridiculous. But, he's being proven wrong. That doesn't mean Ricky would ever like him back. Right?... Okay, so what if Ricky flirted with him? And called him a dreamboat? And take care of his hand... He rubbed his bandaged hand subconsciously.

He pulled up his chair, and slowly sat down. He pulled out his poetry book, and messed with the edge. He opened it to the page where he wrote down everything about Ricky, and stared. He grimaced at the words, realising he is disgustingly in love with Ricky Goldsworth. He flipped to a clean page, and began writing, trying to form the mess of words, and admiration, and love confessions into an actual poem.

Case forgotten, Ricky on his mind.

Nobody bothered him for the rest of the day, and nobody bothered him as he left later that night, arms full of case files, his poetry book set on top. He slid the files into passenger seat, and set his hat on top of the papers, and drove off tiredly. He took the shortest way home. He wasn't sure why. Maybe because he hoped that Ricky would be there, waiting for him. Wouldn't that be a dream? He always wanted someone to greet him after a long day at work. He shook his head, no. He can't get his hopes up.

He parked the car, and climbed out, hat on his head, and files, and poetry book clasped in his hands. He sighed, and walked up the stairs, and down the hall to his room. He shoved his hand into his pocket, and fished out the keys.

The door next to his apartment opened, and Clara poked her head out, and smiled, "oh, Tinsley dear! How are you?"

Tinsley looked up, and smiled tiredly, "hi Clara. I'm okay, just a rough, tired day at work. How was your day?"

"Oh, fine, just fine. A few fella's seen my at the cafe today is all." She giggled, but then frowned. "Oh, by the way, there was some bumping in your apartment about thirty minutes or so ago, and well... I would have called the police, but, news spread about The Golden G. Killer escaping, and I thought best to leave it, that way the can focus on finding him..." She looked all worked up, and so guilty.

Tinsley smiled, maybe Ricky had come? He shook his head, "don't worry about it, it's probably just my cat, Obi." He lied, "I should go check on him. Thank you, Clara." He unlocked his door.

Clara smiled, and waved, going back into her apartment.

Tinsley walked in, slouching and the first thing he saw was Ricky, saw on his sofa, ringing his hands together nervously. He smiled, warily, "hi Tinsley."

Tinsley sighed, and moved over, dumping the files and poem book onto his desk, and rolled his shoulders. He turned to Ricky, and leaned on his desk. He was actually here... Ricky actually came.

Ricky raised his hands, eyes sad, "I'm sorry for breaking and entering—"

"How did you even do that?" Tinsley cut in, confused.

Ricky reached into his pocket, and held up the object, "paperclip..." He slowly set it on the coffee table, and looked down. "I'm so sorry for getting caught, Tinsley..."

Tinsley sighed, and picked up his poem book. He hit it in his hand, and looked to Ricky. Now or never... He flipped open his book, and shoved it into Ricky's grasp, "just... Read that..."

Ricky blinked, and looked down the page, seeing Tinsley's familiar writing. He swallowed, and began to read.

_The Case of Ricky Goldsworth_

_Brown eyes and tanned skin,_

_With lips full of sin._

_His words sounding soft,_

_Yet our Hell is an exhaust._

_I'm now in a closet,_

_And I'm not opposed it._

_My life now unearth,_

_All thanks to Goldsworth._

Ricky tightened his grip on the poetry book, heart thumping quickly. He must have died, he has to have died, only heaven would allow something this special. He looked to Tinsley, eyes wide, voice soft, "Clarence..."

That seemed to awaken Tinsley from his fear, and push him into action. His long legs strode across the rather small room, and now in front of his sofa, and Ricky. He leaned down, and Ricky leaned up, both rushed, and quick, needy, and found themselves kissing, lip to lip, fitting together, melding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dreamboat - An attractive man  
> Again, I'm not good at poetry, but I am trying.


	15. pull me closer and kiss me hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C. C. Tinsley and Ricky Goldsworth make love. (Read notes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) You don't have to read this chapter, you can just skip it as it doesn't affect the plot. I promise.
> 
> 2) Tags: Top Ricky Goldsworth, Bottom C. C. Tinsley, Body Worship, Unsafe Sex, Pull Out, Nipple Play, Hickey, Love Bites, Hair Tugging, Back Scratching, Anal Sex, Jerking Off

Soft, full, pink lips kissed back against chapped, pale lips. Tinsley's upper lip being tickled from Ricky's moustache, and Ricky's chin feeling scratchy from Tinsley's scraggly 'beard'. Their lips fit together like a puzzle piece, as if fireworks were going off, think of every stereotype you know of, and that's what was happening. Their kiss was soft, gentle, almost hesitant, it was so warm, and welcoming, comforting. Ricky's hand wound up at the back of Tinsley's soft, and messy hair, knocking of his hat, and the other on his neck, while Tinsley's hands found their way around Ricky's toned waist, the two pulling each other closer.

They pulled apart when it became increasingly clear the air was still needed, and they panted, foreheads pressed together, and looked to each other, through half-lidded, thick lashed, lustful eyes. Ricky tightened his grip on Tinsley's hair, eliciting a low groan, he leaned closer to Tinsley and whispered, panting, "kiss me again..."

Tinsley leaned down, kissing him again, but this time rough, harsh and needy, greedy. Ricky happily kissed back, as Tinsley lifted him up, arms slipping under Ricky's thighs, and Ricky wrapped his legs around Tinsley's waist, hand on the back of his neck and head, as Tinsley bit Ricky's lip.

Ricky gasped, and Tinsley's tongue slipped into his mouth, relishing the warmth of his mouth, and the taste, roaming every inch. He back Ricky into his closed bedroom door harshly, making Ricky groan.

Tinsley pulled back, eyes wide, panting, a trail of saliva trailing after him, "I'm so sorry, Ricardo! Are you okay?"

Ricky blushed a bright red, "did you just call me, Ricardo?"

"I'm sorry, it just—"

"Clarence," Ricky cut in, making Tinsley flush. "Shut up, and keep going."

Tinsley buried his face into Ricky's neck, and kissed his tanned skin, "I move my hand, I'll drop you." He bit down on Ricky's tender skin, rightly, and began to suck, and Ricky groaned, throwing his head back, clenching his hand, and tugging his hair again, his spare hand reaching down to the door handle, and he opened it.

The two stumbled in, and Tinsley pinned Ricky below him, holding himself up with his hands, leaving a trail of large red hickeys on Ricky's smooth, tanned neck. Ricky moaned, reaching up to Tinsley's wrists, and gripped them, turning and pinning Tinsley under him. Tinsley's eyes widened, looking up at him.

Ricky chuckled, "you didn't actually think I'd let you top me, did you?" His eyes darkened, as his voice lowered.

Tinsley felt heat pool to his stomach, and bit his lip, "well then. What are you waiting for, Ricardo?" He smirked, arms wrapping around Ricky's neck.

Ricky kissed his lips again, rough, and needy, and trailed kisses down his jawline, and neck, first gentle butterfly kisses, breathing softly on his neck, and Tinsley wiggled in need, hard on pressing uncomfortably against his boxers and pants, as Ricky gently trailed his finger down Tinsley's neck, and his breath hit a section of Tinsley's neck, making the taller man whine. Ricky smirked, and bit down on Tinsley's neck, and Tinsley moaned loudly, "oh god, Ricardo!" Ricky chuckled, and harshly sucked on Tinsley's pale, tender skin, leaving a large, red hickey in place of his lips.

Tinsley's long, slender fingers moved down, and fiddled with Ricky's button up shirt, panting, and slipped the shirt down Ricky's arms, under his slacks, and stared, "wow..." His hands trailed down Ricky's muscles, and then down his sides, he moved his hands to Ricky's abs, moaning as Ricky kept kissing and sucking his neck, he trailed his hands up Ricky's abs and to his chest, feeling Ricky's well toned pecs, the pads of his thumbs running over Ricky's nipples, and Ricky moaned loudly, muffled by Tinsley's neck.

Tinsley smirked, pressing a kiss under Ricky's ear, and then gently bit his ear lobe, pulling ever so slightly, and said, in a breathy whisper, "well, well, well, look's like someone has a thing..." Ricky shuddered, as Tinsley pulled Ricky's head to him, kissing him roughly. His pinched Ricky's nipples, and watched Ricky moan, eyes scrunched up in delight. Tinsley shuffled, his breath hitching in shock, feeling their hard ons rubbing against each other. Ricky paused, and bit his lip.

"You tryna get me to cum in my pants like a teenager?" Ricky asked, voice breathy. Tinsley smirked, and that was the answer, _yes_. Ricky smirked, and glared playfully, and lustfully, "you're gonna regret that, Clarence." He kissed Tinsley, and unbuttoned Tinsley's shirt pulling the shirt down, and throwing it to the side. He kissed down Tinsley's neck, and chest, and his tongue lapped Tinsley's nipples.

Tinsley straightened, gasping, as Ricky bit down, and sucked. He ran a hand through Ricky's well kept hair, and messed it up, running a hand through his hair, and tugging it, Ricky groaned, and his dick twitched. Ricky chuckled and kissed down to Tinsley's barely visible v-line, and suddenly, Tinsley realised, that Ricky is a literal god, muscles and abs, and he's a chubby, thin noodle, he went to voice his concerns, but when he looked down, he realised his pants and boxers were off, and his cock twitched out, and he sighed, feeling the strain of his pants gone. He glanced to Ricky in slight worry, as if he would suddenly realise how disgusting he is, but Ricky was looking at him like he's a god.

Ricky looked up to Tinsley in amazement, he couldn't believe someone as gorgeous as Tinsley wanted to have sex with him, he ran his hands down Tinsley's long legs. "God, your legs are amazing..." He admired, voice in awe.

Tinsley lifted Ricky's head up, "Ricardo, are you sure you want me?"

"More then anything, Clarence." He leaned up, and gently kissed him.

Tinsley kissed back, closing his eyes, and pulled back, "please... Fuck me..."

"Gladly." Chuckled Ricky, and Tinsley immediately slipped off the slacks, and unbuttoned Ricky's pants, sliding them and the boxers down. He looked down and stared, seeing Ricky's penis, he swallowed. Ricky gently caressed his cheeks, "you don't have to."

Tinsley wrapped his arms around Ricky's neck, "oils in the top drawer."

Ricky smiled, and reached over, pulling out a tin of oil. He put oil on his hand, and on his digits, he moved his hand to Tinsley's arse, and gently slipped a finger in, watching Tinsley, who tensed up slightly, eyes closed. He slowly moved a finger, watching as Tinsley relaxed, and slowly added a second, keeping the pace slow and steady. Tinsley bit his lip, moaning softly, and reached over, dousing his hand in the oil and wrapping a hand around Ricky's cock, and slowly pumped.

Ricky moaned, "oh god, Clarence..."

Tinsley smirked, face red, "thought'd I give you a helping hand."

"Terrible..." Ricky groaned, and whether it was from the pun, or Tinsley's hand at work, Tinsley was unsure, and didn't really think much of it either, as another finger was added, and he moaned.

"Ricardo, fuck... Please..."

Ricky nodded, smiling gently, "what ever you want, Clarence." He removed his fingers, and Tinsley whined at the sudden emptiness. He gently aligned himself, gently pressed against Tinsley. He slowly pushed into Tinsley, and Tinsley's breathing hitched, and wrapped his arms around Ricky's back, and so Ricky paused.

Tinsley shuffled, thankful that he was letting him get comfortable. He took a deep breath, and nodded. Ricky continued until he was pressed against Tinsley, skin against skin, and Tinsley took a deep breath, "just, pause again..."

Ricky, now completely buried in Tinsley, "take your time, Clarence..."

Tinsley smiled, "thank you..." He shuffled and bit his lip, and nodded, "okay."

Ricky slowly pulled out, and then pushed in again, thrusting, in and out, slow and steady, allowing Tinsley to get comfortable. Tinsley's shoulders slowly relaxed, and moaned softly, arms around Ricky. Ricky slowly began to speed up, and Tinsley purposely clenched around him, the two moaning softly, Ricky burying his head into Tinsley's neck.

Hips rolled, thrusting into Tinsley, who moaned, "please, harder."

Ricky smirked, and slammed into Tinsley, making him moan, back arching in surprise, and dug his nails into Ricky's back, dragging his nails down his tanned, and toned back. Ricky moaned, "oh Clarence..." He slammed into Tinsley again with a moan, angling around, trying to find his prostate, and Tinsley suddenly let out a loud moan, which bounced off the walls, and drool slipped past his lips, nails scratching down Ricky's back.

Ricky paused, and grinned, _found it_. He slammed into that same spot again, with a moan, and Tinsley threw his head back with a loud moan, "fuck! Keep going!" Ricky kept thrusting, relishing the sound, and Tinsley tightened around him on purpose, and Ricky moaned, kissing Tinsley harshly, shoving his tongue in, the two swallowing each others moans as not to wake his neighbours.

The only sound circling the room, and filling their ears, is muffled moaning, the rather small bed slamming against the wall, and skin slapping against skin, and every so often, nails scratching against skin, and gasping. Ricky moved one hand, and wrapped his hand around Tinsley's cock, and began pumping. Tinsley moaned, "god, Ricardo! Harder!" He moaned into Ricky's mouth, a knot tightening in his stomach.

Ricky grinned, and groaned, slamming into him, and pumping his hand harder, "Clarence, you're so fucking amazing!"

"Don't stop," moaned Tinsley, tightening around Ricky. "Oh, fuck... Ricardo, I'm gonna..." He whined, and panted.

Ricky moaned, panting, "oh god, Clarence... I-I..." He buried his head between Tinsley's neck, and shoulder, who's nails were now digging into Ricky's shoulders.

Ricky slammed into Tinsley, who moaned, and threw his head back, and released white hot sticky sperm all over Ricky's hands, and stomach, eyes clenched shut, "Ricardo!" He moaned, seeing shiny stars in his vision, even when he opened his eyes, he still saw stars, vision clouded by white, in a daze. His release caused a domino affect, clenching around Ricky, harder then before, and Ricky moaned out, "Clarence!" He released deep inside of Clarence, filling the taller man up, and kept thrusting, riding his high out, eyes clenched. He finally finished, still buried in Tinsley, and despite his eyes now open, all he saw was a white haze, and gently on top of Tinsley, the two panting, cheeks flushed, and the two held each other, sweaty and hot, and Ricky was still buried in Tinsley, who made no complaint, if anything he didn't want to feel empty so soon.

Ricky pressed his cheek into Tinsley's chest, who wrapped his arms around Ricky's waist.

"I think I'm in love with you..." Tinsley said smiling, looking down to Ricky.

Ricky grinned back, and looked up under his thick lashes, "good, because I think I'm in love with you too..."

Ricky leaned up, smiling softly, and Tinsley smiled, and leaned down, and met each other in the middle with a gentle, soft, love filled kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oils were used back then, and to be fair, I can't find anything specific.
> 
> WOOOOW! That was uncomfortable, oof! I don't write sex scenes often, it makes me uncomfortable, BUT, I know some people like this stuff, so I did it for them. Do forgive me if this is terrible, and uncomfortable. I'm trying.


	16. never mind bleeding heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C. C. Tinsley deals with another body, nosy Detectives... And is Detective Horsley suspicious of him? Or, is it just him?

** RECAP: **

Ricky pressed his cheek into Tinsley's chest, who wrapped his arms around Ricky's waist.

"I think I'm in love with you..." Tinsley said smiling, looking down to Ricky.

Ricky grinned back, and looked up under his thick lashes, "good, because I think I'm in love with you too..."

Ricky leaned up, smiling softly, and Tinsley smiled, and leaned down, and met each other in the middle with a gentle, soft, love filled kiss.

~~~~~

He's lying on his back, a male, he's a deep brown, bald, he's been stabbed forty times with a knife, not just a knife, but a talon his throat has been slit open, and his finger nails and teeth were pulled from the skin, and there's a golden _G_ pained on his face, half clothed. However, this time, his shirt is off, and a heart has been carved into the mans chest, and the body was dumped in front of the station, on the steps.

Tinsley rolled his eyes, a small, barely noticeable, fond smile on his lip. Holly stormed over, and paper coffee cup in her hand, and Tinsley stopped smiling.

"He's taunting us now!" She snapped, looking to Tinsley. She clenched her hand, clenching the cup, and broke it, the coffee spilled and it burned her hand, but she didn't blink. She threw the cup down.

Tinsley blinked, and stared, and backed away. He looked down to the man with a heart carved into his chest. His mind was filled with Ricky, his body, his muscles, his abs, the scratches he left on his back, hickey covered neck, with soft, gentle hands, and soft lips, and his voice moaning _Clarence_ , and that... That confession. As if it wasn't sinful enough to have sex before marriage, to have sex with a man, a criminal man, the true, real sin, the real dirty thing was their confessions of love... Of Ricky's smile, of his voice saying, _I love you too_.

He shook his head, to rid the thoughts of Ricardo's body, and looked to Holly to ask the usual questions, but noticed her frowning and staring at him, "what?"

"I thought you said you wasn't looking for a relationship." Holly said, squinting.

Tinsley frowned, but his hand shot to his neck, and fingered the brown bruised, and faded red hickeys littering his neck, "yeah, not with you..." He said, and Holly stood straighter in shock. Tinsley looked to Holly, "focus on your job, not my love life. Now, who called it in, does he have any friends, or family?"

"I don't know." Holly snarled out, teeth gritted.

Tinsley squinted, and his eyes widened, "wait, I know him, Not personally, but he works at a bar... His name's Billy. I know he know's a guy called Banjo..."

Holly looked over, and then to Officer Jones, "Jones! Find out a man called Banjo, and Billy!"

Jones waved a hand, "no need, I have the number!" He held up the wallet with a gloved hand, and in the wallet was the name, _Banjo McClintock,_ and a number.

Tinsley stared, as Holly said, "he must have known..." She walked over, and put on a glove, "we'll call him, see if there's any family on this Billy's side." She walked off, "I'll send them to you, Tinsley." She said, glaring at the man, and walked off up the steps.

Tinsley followed, and went to his office. He raised a hand, and again, he gently ran the pads of his fingers over the hickeys on his neck. He sat in his chair, and closed his eyes, a smile on his face. If he thinks hard enough, he can still feel Ricky's eyes upon his face, and his hand upon his wrists, and Ricky's lips caressing his skin. He bit his lip, taking a sharp intake of air, and opened his eyes, swallowing, and he shook his head. _Nope, no, stop it, you have a job... That you can't complete because you love Ricky..._

He picked out his poetry book, and pulled out the drawing of him by Ricky, and smiled, seeing Ricky's technique. There was a knock at his door, and he hid the drawing and poetry book. He got up, and opened the door, "hello, Detective Tinsley?"

There was a man with light gray hair, thin, and brown skin, "I'm Billy's father... Andre Sioux."

"Please, come in." Tinsley said, softly.

Andre sighed, and walked over, sitting down in a spare chair. He crossed his arms, tapping his foot.

Tinsley sat opposite him and brought out his notebook, and went to ask questions, but Andre raised his hand, stopping Tinsley. "Listen, Detective, I feel you need to know, I don't talk to Billy anymore. No doubt he was killed due to fucking any guy he could get his hands on."

"Your son is queer?" Tinsley asked, writing that down.

Andre scoffed, "yeah. I'm not happy with his lifestyle, so I stopped talking to him." He shook his head, looking down, "I'm ashamed of him, last I heard of him he was dating this Banjo guy?"

"When was this?" Tinsley asked.

"Three years ago." Andre answered, "Banjo was a crummy guy last I saw him. I think the boyfriend did it."

Tinsley nodded, and wrote it down, "anything else?"

"No, I know nothing. I hate him, still..." Andre sighed, shrugging, "I'm sorry I can't help you catch your killer."

Tinsley sighed, "I'm sorry for your loss..."

Andre nodded, looking down, "thank you." He got up, wiping his hands on his pants, "goodbye Detective." He left, head down.

Tinsley shook his head, and shoved the notebook into his desk drawer, and pocketed the poetry book. He took out a cigarette and placed it between his lips. He walked out, and slumped to Holly's office, opening the door without knocking.

Holly looked up, annoyed, "Tinsley."

"When's the boyfriend coming in?" Tinsley asked, tapping his foot.

Holly glared, and stood up, "soon. It doesn't matter, because I'll be interviewing him."

Tinsley looked up form the floor shocked, eyes wide, "what?"

"I'm interviewing him." Holly repeated, giving Tinsley a once over with squinting eyes. Tinsley tensed, those eyes were accusing, and he released; He's a suspect, in Holly's eyes. That or an accomplice to Ricky, and he technically is.

Tinsley nodded, stiffly, "fair enough, Detective Horlsey."

A knock sounded at the door, and Holly walked over, leading Tinsley out and opened the door. There was pale, tall man, with a terrible wig and, a fake moustache, in a pressed, pristine suit, eyes red and rimmed with tears.

Holly held out a hand, "Mr. McClintock."

He took her hand and shook, "Detective Horsley..."

Tinsley watched in silence as the door closed behind this Banjo guy, and saw Holly giving him a look. The door shut with a quiet thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crummy - an item that is no good  
> Queer - term used for a homosexual (at the time)


	17. the room where it happens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holly Horsley interviews Banjo McClintock, and gets a suspect as an accomplice.

Banjo McClintock is tall, and pasty white. He wore a terribly, fake black, short, curled wig, and an even faker, thin, black, curled moustache, but he wore a clean, and pressed suit indicated his wealth, and seemed to be of some kind of proper background. His eyes were red, and rimmed with tears, cheeks stained red, and stained with dried salty tears. He looked tense, hands clenched, and a scowl in his sad eyes, he wasn't nervous, no... He was angry. Furious, even.

"Hello, I'm Detective Holly Horsley, and you are...?" Holly asked, all formalities of course.

"Banjo McClintock..." He seemed to know the routine at this point.

Holly sat in her office chair, looking at Banjo who sat in the other chair, a look of seriousness and anger across his face. She pulled out her notebook, and pen, "what's your job, Mr. McClintock?"

"I'm a spy for the former Try Guy's Gang." Banjo answered honestly, making Holly pause in her writing. Her eyes were wide, she wasn't expecting that answer, nor was she expecting a form of honesty with a job like that, especially with it being with a former illegal gang. She looked up for an answer, and Banjo saw, and he waved his hand dismissively, "in due time."

Holly nodded, and wrote it down, but left a space between the _spy_ note and the next, now also more tense knowing there was a possibility this killing was more interlinked then previously believed, "tell me about this Billy..."

"Billy Sioux his name is, a bartender at Urtsey Road. Mainly got gangs in, he was on neutral terms with all the gangs." Banjo explained, looking down, coughing slightly, fighting back a sob. "He was twenty nine."

"What's the relationship between the two of you?" Holly asked.

"He was my boyfriend, so as you can imagine, not a good combination for when you have enemies." Banjo answered, and then shrugged, "also not good being into men..."

Holly nodded, and continued, "did Billy have enemies?"

"No ma'am. What with him being a neutral, nobody dared to kill him until given a reason." Banjo explained, and then looked down, swallowing back a sob through thick saliva, "but, I have enemies."

Holly looked to him, tight lipped, "please do explain..."

"After the murder of my former bosses, I swore revenge." Banjo explained, "I worked for Night Night, and his gang. Told them things, but mainly did what was asked of me. The Golden G. Killer, as he's dubbed, found out about Billy. Actually, he congratulated me." Banjo sighed, "but, recently, news spread I was a spy, looking for revenge. The best way to get to me was to go after, and kill... Kill... B-Bil—"

Holly handed him a tissue, and he snatched it from her grasp, and he dabbed the tears away, sobbing, and shoulders shaking, and hunched over. He was wailing quietly.

"M-my enemies are, Legs, Night Night, and The Golden G., maybe even another guy."

"Do you know where Night Night lives? Or his hide out?" Holly asked, softly, the grip on her pen harder. She was about to get a lead.

Banjo nodded, "yeah... There's three hideouts, so I'm not sure which is which. They're all on ArrtVerl Block..."

Holly nodded, and wrote down the information, "and you said there was another man?"

"Relatively new. Doesn't work for a gang, but seems to be gettin' on with the Killer... He's a Detective according to Billy." Banjo explained, thinking back to the conversation he had not too long ago.

Holly paused, and stared at him, blankly, "a detective? Do you a description?"

"Tall, white, messy clothes, smokes. Scraggly beard, that's more like stubble. Sloth eyes, I'd say..." Banjo explained, shrugging, "that is what I remember from Billy telling me..."

Holly stared, and glanced at her office door, seeing in the window, the silhouette of a tall figure with a hat on, stalking the door, listening in, and she glared. She looked to Banjo, ignoring the figure at the door for now, "you're being arrested on suspicion of murder, possible theft, and illegal gang activity." Banjo held his hands out, readily, and Holly handcuffed him, that seemed too easy. She took him out, and the figure moved, rushing off.

She opened the door, and gave Banjo over to Officer Jones, "Jones, interrogation room eleven." Jones took Banjo and walked off with him. She looked to the figure, and saw Tinsley leaning on the wall, tense, nervous.

"Well?" He asked, as if he hand't been listening into the entire conversation.

"Send a team to ArrtVerl Block." She answered, watching Banjo be taken off by Jones, and Banjo seemed to be going quietly.

Tinsley blinked, and nodded, "anything else?" He asked, hurried, and worried.

Holly stared at him, holding back a glare, "nothing, don't worry."

Tinsley nodded, and walked to his office, and wrote a few reports, banding together a team of investigators. They were bad, newbies, with low grades, and planned to send them there late that night, meaning they would be tired, and would miss a lot.

Holly watched Tinsley leaved, and then walked into her office, and sat down. She pulled out her notebook, and pen again, writing down a new note, a possible accomplice that is becoming more and more guilty; _C. C. Tinsley._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whats this? My love of musical theatre shining through with the title!


	18. you can count on me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night Night isn't happy with Ricky's recent activities, and Ricky goes to Tinsley's despite his cousins anger.

Ricky was on the green cushion filled sofa, shirt off, and was laying on his front. He had his sketchbook open in front of him, and was sketching Tinsley's beautiful body from memory, hickeys and all. If he thought hard enough he could still taste Tinsley's lips on his, almost like a ghost. He stayed on the sofa all day, tired from the nights activities before, but he was in pure bliss, seeing Tinsley's long legs on his page, in his memory. He smiled softly, and fondly.

Night Night walked in, annoyed at something, work no doubt, or maybe some guy got on his nerves. Legs was close behind. Night Night paused, freezing mid step, and stared at his cousins back, scratched up with red lines by what looked like blunt nails, and then saw a few crescent indentations in his shoulders, again as if blunt nails dug into his shoulder. He shook his head, _so, this is what Ricky was doing last night..._

Night Night walked over, and crossed his arms, towering over Ricky, looking down, and watching his cousin sketch a male body, "Ricky."

Ricky looked up, eyes wide in horror, and slammed his book shut, and covered his body with a blanket, "hi Night!" He tried to sound innocent, but sounded like a child caught eating a cookie before dinner.

"How _dare_ you leave last night, especially after being caught!" Night Night scolded, and Ricky sighed, rolling his eyes. "What if you was caught! Again! How stupid are you?!"

Ricky frowned at the insult, "I'm not stupid!"

"Yes you are!" Night Night snapped, glaring. He shook his head, "are you _trying_ to get caught?! Do you want us in prison too?!" Ricky shook his head, and Night Night continued, "you stay here tonight, you stay hear until this all blows over. Do you understand?!" Ricky looked down, scoffing.

"I don't want you to become an active duty!" Night Night snapped, gesturing to the hickeys and scratches littering Ricky's neck and back, and Ricky immediately fingered his hickeys, and the nail marks on his shoulders, and he fought back to close his eyes and dream of Tinsley's nails, racking down his body, and teeth sinking into his neck, and nails digging into his flesh. He repressed a shiver.

Legs wrapped his arms around Night Night,'s waist and nuzzled his head into his shoulder, "relax, baby." He gently kissed Night Nights cheek. "let the kid live a little." He smiled to Ricky, and winked, pulling Night Night off upstairs.

Ricky watched silently, and looked at the time. "I'm not a kid..." He grumbled, pouting, his arms crossed. But the pouting soon turned into grinning. A single thought filled his mind, _there's a possibility Tinsley's home_. He got up, and sneaked out the house, tip toeing. He quietly shut the door with a very quiet thud, and all but rushed to Tinsley's apartment building. He saw the building, and immediately entered, walking up the stairs casually as if he lived there, and strode down Tinsley's hall.

He stood outside of Tinsley's apartment door, and took out the paperclip, and picked the lock quietly. He sneaked in, not noticing a lovely old woman called Clara walk out her apartment, as Ricky entered Tinsley's. She looked at Tinsley's door with a confused frown, but then shrugged ever so slightly, and walked back into her apartment.

Ricky fell onto Tinsley's sofa with a thumpon his front, and immediately turned on the television on, The Jack Benny Program was on, and Ricky shrugged. Not his go to choice, but it was pretty entertaining. He pushed himself up and then into a sitting, and pulled out his sketchbook, continuing to draw and sketch Tinsley's body, and he found himself staring, smiling, and he tried to make it as real as possible, he truly did, but nothing could compare to the man himself.

He kept sketching, and erasing, and shading with his finger, or another scrap of paper, he wasn't sure how long he was there for, but it must have been a while. He snapped out of his drawing, and love filled trance when he heard the door open quietly, and Tinsley's voice saying, "no, no, there was nobody. Alright, see you tomorrow Clara!"

Tinsley walked in with a yawn, shutting the door behind him, he turned around, and paused seeing Ricky sitting on his sofa with an innocent look in his eyes. They just stared at each other. And kept staring, then Tinsley suddenly surged forward and kissed him, greedily. Ricky kissed back, eyes closed, and fell back onto the sofa, arms wrapped around Tinsley's neck, and Tinsley's holding himself up, hands planted firmly on the sofa, eyes closed, hovering above Ricky. They pulled back, panting slightly, and pressed their foreheads together gently, and looking to each other softly through thick, black eyelashes.

Tinsley's face morphed from love to one of sudden realisation, "you need to be more careful, my neighbour saw you entering."

Ricky winced, _oops. Hadn't meant for that to happen._ He gently caressed Tinsley's cheek, hand cupping said cheek as well, "I'm sorry, Tinsy. I'll be careful..." He gently kissed Tinsley's fading hickey. Tinsley relaxed, and cuddled him, nuzzling his head into Ricky's neck. Ricky ran a hand through his hair, knocking off Tinsley's hat off, "how was work? today?" He asked quietly.

It felt domestic, nice and normal, as if the two could start a family, and Tinsley nodded, "it was fine..." He leaned up, kissing Ricky again, who kissed back, lips slow and graceful. But, then Tinsley's eyes widened, and suddenly stopped kissing him, pulling back suddenly. He looked up, "you killed that bartender, Billy... Whoever his name was!"

Ricky nodded, and looked down, and to be fair he did look ashamed, he really didn't want to kill Billy, "I did. I had to Tinsley, I—"

"He knew it was coming. I accidentally let it slip about Banjo, and there was a number on a picture. Banjo McClintock came in." Tinsley explained, and Ricky's fingers through Tinsley's soft, yet scraggly hair stopped all too sudden, and looked to him confused, and eyes wide, his fingers gripping his hair. "He explained he knew you, Night Night and Legs, said that you killed Billy because you found out Banjo was spying, and he told Horsley about those hideouts. I sent down some investigators, bad ones, they'll be there in an hour."

Ricky sat up quickly, and Tinsley leaned up, "can I use your phone?" Ricky asked, voice calm, but eyes frantic and worried.

Tinsley sat up, and moved to the side of the sofa, "course you can. My room."

Ricky blushed, and got up. He kissed Tinsley gently on his lips, soft and quick, but then leaned back down and kissed him, again and again and again, and he smiled, forcing himself to walk off to Tinsley's room, and chuckled hearing a whine from Tinsley. He sat on his bed, a bright red hue coating his cheeks, memories of last night filling his head, of delicate skin, and lips caressing lips, hands roaming bodies. He shook his head rid those thoughts for now, and picked up the phone on Tinsley's bedside table, and rang Night Night. He tapped his foot, waiting.

"Hello?" Night Night groaned, his voice rough.

Ricky sneered, he had a good idea of what happened after he left, before they promptly collapsed, "good thing I left before you two got down to biz, huh?"

The bed on Night Night's bed creaked, and rustled, indicating he sat up, and he yelled, "Ricky!" He could picture Night Night's face contort to one of anger, face turning impossibly red.

A quiet mumble came from the other end, "oh shit..."

"Hi Legs!" Ricky greeted, smiling like a maniac, "you two have fun?" He looked up, seeing Tinsley walk in. Tinsley sat down, and cuddled Ricky's side, and began kissing Ricky's neck, ever so slightly.

"Where the fuck are you?!" Night Night yelled, and Ricky almost didn't notice this being said through clenched teeth.

Instead, Ricky swallowed harshly, feeling Tinsley's tongue run over his fading hickeys, and his large hand run up under his shirt, on his back, long fingers caressing abs, "well, you see—"

"Don't even answer, I don't wanna know! Come home, now!" Night Night yelled, and Ricky could imagine smoke coming from his cousins face.

Ricky sighed, "no, just listen, Banj-Oh!" His voice squeaked, as teeth sunk into his hickey, and he hummed out a moan. He ran fingers through Tinsley's hair, and tugged. "They fou-found Billy, Banjo told them the hide outs!" He bit his lip, hiding a moan, "get people home, they have just under an hour."

"Wait, are you with Tinsley?!" Yelled Night Night, angrily, and in slight horror, he too having a good idea what his cousin was doing.

Ricky blinked, eyes wide, and Tinsley kissed up to his jawline. Ricky sang out, "okay, bye! Love you!" He hung up, slamming the phone down. He immediately wrapped his arms around Tinsley's neck, and one hand on the back of his head, and pulled him closed, kissing Tinsley on his lips again, and Tinsley kissed back greedily, hungrily, his arms wrapping Ricky's waist.

Tinsley again pulled back, and Ricky chased his lips with a whine, "Clarence... Why are you pulling back?"

"I need to know... Do you know anything about those Sodder children? Where they are? Who took them?" Tinsley asked, frowning. "Your cousin was friends with George Sodder, and a man, a life insurance salesman—"

"Fear." Ricky corrected, "his name's Fear," but he shook his head, "we don't deal with kids. We have a line, and that crosses it. Not to mention, Night Night hasn't been around those two for years. Banjo, when he worked for Try Guys, I did some research, and he knew Fear, so if anything Banjo will know more..." Ricky sighed, "I'm so sorry, Night Night and I aren't involved, and I don't have much information other then that."

Tinsley shook his head, and gently pulled Ricky into his lap, "don't be sorry... I met you..."

Ricky shook his head, smiling fondly, "you're such a fuddy-duddy."

"Only for you." Smirked Tinsley, and playfully growled, leaning up, and Ricky leaned down with a husky hum, the two kissing each other, and Tinsley fell onto his back with a giggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Active duty - sexually promiscuous boy
> 
> Biz - business
> 
> Fuddy-Duddy - old-fashioned person
> 
> The Jack Benny Program is a 15 season comedy which play from 1932-1965


	19. i'm just your problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ricky Goldsworth and Night Night Bergara have an argument, and Legs Madej steps in, and stands up for Ricky.

Night Night finished getting off the phone to all his associates, he had called them up, told them to close up and go into hiding. Secretly, he was thankful Detective Tinsley had warned them, but damn it! Ricky needed to learn to follow orders. _Where is the dumbass, it's been over an hour!_

He paced the hall, rubbing his eyes, it's been a long fucking afternoon, getting closer to night. Legs was in bed, in one of Night Night's boxer shorts, and a white shirt, reading a book dubbed; _The Dancing Plague_ , it was interesting. Neither were too happy having to lay low in their lives, staying hidden in their house, yet they had no other option.

Night Night paced, and the door opened. He looked up to see Ricky walking through the door, hair a mess, cheeks red, and hair a mess, more hickeys on his neck, and lips bruised and plumped, Ricky shut the door quietly, relaxing. Night Night stormed over, and grabbed Ricky by his shoulders, and sat him down, "Ricky!"

"Hey Night..." Ricky smiled, a dazed, and soft look in his eyes.

Night Night frowned, "don't you dare leave again. We have to lay low, that includes you. You especially, they know what you look like."

Ricky nods, "I know it'll be fine, I'll only go in the night—"

"You're staying home. Here, until this all blows over." Night Night cut in, clarifying what he meant by 'on the low'.

Ricky looked up, and shook his head, an ugly frown on his face, "I can't do that, Night Night. I have my own life, I'm in the beginnings of a relationship."

"Too bad!" Night Night yelled, "you live here, and you do as I say!"

Ricky shot up, glaring at his cousin, "well fine then, I'll leave!"

"No you fucking won't! Not to that boyfriend of yours, who, by the way, I told you about!" Night Night yelled.

"And I warned you about Madej, and look what happened with you two! I'll leave, and I'm no longer your fucking problem!" Ricky yelled, getting face to face with Night Night.

A pale hand was placed on theirs shoulders, and a soothing voice said, "okay, calm down, relax..." In unison the cousins turned to him, and stared him down. Legs was standing in between them, keeping them apart from each other, he looked to Ricky. "Ricky, you need to try and see it from Night's point of view, and try and understand. Night Night's worried about you, as am I." He looked to Night Night, "Baby, please calm down, don't do something you'll regret."

Night Night glared, and looked to Ricky, "no! It's fine! I know what I'm fucking doing!"

Ricky scoffed, "why does it matter!"

"You live here!" Night Night snarled, glaring.

"I'm going, so whatever, doesn't matter!" Ricky stormed to the door.

"Fine!" Yelled Night Night, watching as the door slammed shut.

Legs held Night Night by his waist, and cuddled into his back, "baby...?" Night Night hummed, and Legs continued, "why do you not want Tinsley and Ricky to be together honey?"

Night Night rubbed his face, and eyes tired. He looked down, sadly, "Ricky was _just_ arrested! I don't want him arrested, again, while sneaking around at Tinsley's!" He gestured to the door. "And, Ricky's so young, and naive! Not even twenty five year, and because he's been to jail _once_. And now, he thinks he knows everything! He's turned into a serial killer, became a killer for me, and he thinks he knows what he's doing!" He scoffed, "I just have a really bad feeling..." He placed a hand on his stomach, as if he was feeling sick, but it was true. His stomach was churning, or had been stabbed by Ricky's talon. He shook his head, "he's gonna get Ricky killed, or captured. Captured, if we're lucky..."

Legs held him, "remember us?" He asked, resting his chin on his head, "I was a lawyer. I had to convince the judge you deserved prison, at worst the death sentence." Night Night nodded, and so Legs continued, "well, you came to me after your first trail, and we talked, and talked, and talked. And I fell in love with you. I corrupted evidence—"

Night Night chuckled, cutting Legs off, "I had to calm you down, you came to me in a state of shock, blabbering on about how you went against the law."

Legs nodded, "right, it was found out, and I ran off with you. Do you remember?" Night Night nodded, "we were young, and stupid, just like Ricky."

"Yeah, but... But, he fell in love with a Detective! More specifically, the Detective who _has_ to bring him in to justice!" Night Night yelled, arms failing as he desperately tried to explain. "He is dating the... 'Enemy', in a sense! It's so dangerous, and I don't trust this Tinsley guy, even if he did help us!"

Legs hummed, "this seems like a familiar conversation that Ricky had with you."

Night Night looked up, annoyed, "what do you mean?"

Legs smiled softly, and kissed Night Nights temple, "I mean, it must run in the family to date people who have to bring you to justice..." He gave Night Night a pointed look.

Night Night sighed, shoulders slouched as he looked to Legs, "why do you always have to be right?" He smiled. There was no way he was able to explain this without being a hypocrite, but; _I just don't want Ricky making the same mistakes I did. I got lucky, he might not. And he won't, I just know it._

Legs chuckled, and moved in front of Night Night, caressing his cheek, "I love you, Ryan..." He wrapped his arms around Night Nights waist.

Night Night looked up smiling, and blushing, he always loves it when Legs calls him _Ryan_ , "I love you too, Shane."

Legs smiled softly, he loves being called _Shane_. Names were kept a secret, and to each other, all that was known was their nicknames, _Ryan_ and _Shane_ are their private lives, the lives they didn't want anyone else knowing.

Legs carefully pulled Night Night up, and gently kissed him, lips soft and gently fitting together like a puzzle piece, and Night Night kissed Legs back, wrapping his arms around his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I make Legs and Night Night's official first names 'Shane' and 'Ryan'? Yes I did! I'm sorry!


	20. lay your head down and stay a while

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C. C. Tinsley comforts Ricky Goldsworth, and asks him to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I am so sorry for not updating yesterday. I was at my Nan's as she hasn't seen me since New Year, and before anyone panics, we took the proper precautions, and she's in my bubble which means, I can go to hers, I'm allowed. I literally just finished a short one shot I wanted to do, and posted it, then slept.  
> Secondly, I need to warn you, I might not be posting tomorrow either, and I'm sorry. See, since we're in Lockdown in England, I can't see my friends, so our genius plan is - Lets Zoom call, but not just that! Lets Fancy Dress Zoom call. And, fuck it! Lets get drunk, so no doubt tomorrow I'm gonna have a huge fucking hang over. So, I'm very sorry, but that is happening. Please don't worry, I'm of legal drinking age, and I'm just staying in my room!  
> Okay? Okay! Onto the chapter!!!!

Knocking echoed Tinsley's apartment, and he walked out of his room. His hair was slightly damp, and he was in a loose white vest, loose red flannel pants, and bare feet as he couldn't afford slippers. He set down his poetry book, pages open and on view was the cursive writing, He opened the door, stopping the frantic knocking.

His eyes widened, in front of him was Ricky, clenched hand raised in knocking movement, eyes red, and rimmed with tears, and cheeks red and blotchy, stained with salty tears, "C-Clarence..." His voice was shaky.

Tinsley moved to the side, "come in..." Ricky came in with a shaky sob. Tinsley shut the door, and gently placed his hands on Ricky's shoulder, "what happened?"

"Me and Night Night had a fight..." Ricky sobbed, wiping his eyes, "we-we've never really had a fight..." 

Tinsley gently caressed his cheek, "what was you fighting?"

"About me staying home, n-not seeing you..." Ricky sniffed, and his shoulders shook.

Tinsley's eyes softened, "oh, Ricardo..." He held his arms out for Ricky, slightly asking if he wants a hug. Ricky immediately threw himself into Tinsley's open arms, and a fresh set of tears began, cheeks flowing down his cheeks.

"H-He said he didn't want me around you... He said... H-he said, so l-long as I-I live there, I-I h-have to f-follow his rules..." Ricky sniffed, "s-so I said, I-I'd leave..." Ricky sobbed, sniffing.

Tinsley gently took Ricky to his bed, and gently lay them on the bed. Ricky curled up to Tinsley, and buried his head into Tinsley's chest, hiding his face and cried quietly. Tinsley held him close, arm securely wrapped around his waist, and the other running through his still messy hair.

Ricky took a sobbed filled, shaky intake of air, "me-me and N-Night n-n-never argue! W-we d-did once, and i-it-it was when he-he was t-talking wi-with L-L-Legs when he was-was s-still a l-l-lawyer..."

"How long ago was that?" Tinsley asked quietly.

"Over five years ago, at least..." Ricky said, calming down. "We don't fight..." He tear up again, "it's just not us..."

Tinsley kissed the top of his head gently, "sh, sh, it's okay. You two made up after that, didn't you?"

"No, I shut the fuck up and dealt with it, told him what I thought, and... Well, we only made up after the two ran away together, and Legs started helping Night..." Ricky admitted, and looked down.

Tinsley kissed his temple, "take deep breaths, Ricky..."

Ricky sniffed, and nodded, his shoulders began to relax, and his heaving chest form sobbing began to stop and relax. Tinsley smiled, and nuzzled his face into Ricky's hair, "go clean your face, baby..."

Ricky flushed, and looked up with a small smile, he sniffed, "did you just call me 'baby'?"

Tinsley flushed, and chuckled nervously, "yeah, I guess I did..."

"I'm gonna go clean my face..." Ricky smiled, and got up. He walked off, smiling, his heart fluttering at the nickname

Tinsley leaned up, and watched Ricky walk through the door and smiled, he fell back onto the bed with a grin. He got out of bed and pulled out one of his shirts, a white button up, and long brown pants, and set it on his bed for Ricky. He sat down, and waited for Ricky.

Ricky walked in, eyes slightly less red, and cheeks no longer stained and less blotchy. Tinsley smiled, "come on." He patted the side of his too small bed.

Ricky smiled, and held himself, he shook his head, "no. As much as that would be a dream come true, I don't want to be a bother to you... I'll just go—"

Tinsley took Ricky's hand and pulled him to the edge of the bed, "Ricardo, I _want_ you to stay here..."

Ricky blinked, eyes wide, "do you mean it, Clarence?"

"More then anything," Tinsley smiled, and wrapped his arms around Ricky's waist, and buried his head into Ricky's stomach, "stay..."

Ricky slowly smiled, and wrapped his arms around Tinsley's neck, and buried his head into the clean, soft hair, "okay..."

Tinsley took his shirt and pants, and handed it to Ricky, "here, it's all I have..."

Ricky smiled and took the clothing, purposely brushing his fingers overs Tinsley's, "thank you, but I usually just sleep shirtless." He kissed Tinsley's forehead. He pulled off his shirt, and jacket, and Tinsley lay down, watching as Ricky stripped down to his boxers, and setting his sketchbook and pencil on the floor, and then pulled on the white shirt. It went to the middle of his thighs, and his sleeves fell past his hands. Then he pulled on the long pants, which were too long, and had to roll them up.

Tinsley stared, eyes wide, "holy shit... You're so adorable..."

Ricky chuckled, and lay in bed, needing to cuddle up to Tinsley to fit on, "was I interrupting you, sugar?"

Tinsley flushed, and grinned, holding Ricky close, "I was just writing poetry..."

"I'm sorry..." Ricky went to get up, to go and get Tinsley's poetry book, but Tinsley stopped him.

"No, don't leave... I'll just read..." He reached over, and grabbed a book, and kissed Ricky's temple.

Ricky grinned, and cuddled up to him, wrapping his short limbs around Tinsley. He closed his eyes, and relaxed, and Tinsley wrapped an arm around around him, and rested his chin on Ricky's head, reading the book with his other hand. Ricky nuzzled his face into Tinsley's chest, taking a deep breath.

Tinsley looked down, and smiled softly, eyes fond. It was almost hard to believe Ricky's a thief and a serial killer, the man was just too soft, and so sweet, and kind, and he hated to admit this, but he would do anything for Ricardo if it kept him safe and happy.

"I love you..." Tinsley said softly, a gentle smile on his voice as he looked down at Ricky.

Ricky looked up from Tinsley's chest, and smiled back gently, and caressed Tinsley's cheek softly, "I love you too..."

Tinsley smiled, and leaned down, and Ricky leaned up, the two kissing softly, and Tinsley dropped the book, wrapping his other arm around Ricky's waist, and Ricky wrapped his arms around his neck. They slowly pulled back, and went back to cuddling each other.


	21. and now I'm stuck in the web

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ricky Goldsworth is face to face with a gun, and C. C. Tinsley is in the other room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friday night was the best! I got sooo drunk, and I had a terrible hangover on Saturday, it was amazing. I was on a Zoom Call, and I dressed as Dr. Facillier, and I sat on my bed. I had like 6 shots, 3 beers, and half a cocktail. I fell off my bed, and bruised my arm, my friends teased me about my crush, and we all listened to music, we did quizzes, it was great fun!
> 
> Who knows? I might be doing this again this Friday coming up? But, like a slumber party, and not as drunk, as the next day we'll be having a aprty for my Mum's birthday!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this chapter!

Arms were securely wrapped around each other as they slept. Tinsley was out to the world, while Ricky slept with the need to wake up if needed. Ricky tensed up suddenly, waking up, but kept his eyes closed, feeling as if someone was watching him. _Must be Clarence. You don't sleep alone on Night Night's sofa anymore._ Ricky thought, cuddling up to Tinsley softly with a smile, but then he frowned, _no, it's coming from behind me..._ His stomach churned, and slowly turned over in Tinsley's arms and opened his eyes.

There in the corner of the room, and blending with the darkness was a figure, with a gun pointed to them. Ricky squinted, and his eyes slowly focused, the figure is a man, he's tall, and in a suit, with what looks like a terrible wig and a fake moustache, he glared in realisation, _Banjo McClintock_. He didn't need Banjo waking Tinsley, so he held up a hand as if to say, _relax, I'm coming._

Banjo nodded, and jerked his gun to the door, eyes hard in anger, _then get going._

Slowly and carefully, Ricky untangled himself from Tinsley's arms, and gently kissed his temple. He slowly sneaked out, and Banjo followed, shutting the door behind them quietly, his gun still pointed to Ricky.

Ricky looked around, and noticed the window open, and it was slightly dented around the wood. He looked to Banjo, tensely.

Banjo held the gun to Ricky's face, "you killed my boyfriend..."

"I had to... You're a spy for Try Guys, and you were going to kill Night Night... I'm sorry, but you're the enemy..." Ricky said, slowly.

Banjo glared, "I knew you and that Detective were fucking. I knew it! Billy waned me about this detective guy, never thought you'd be that desperate!"

"You was arrested..." Ricky said.

"As if that bitch could hold me." Banjo scoffed, and glared. He shook his head, "I'm gonna kill you, I swear to fuck."

Ricky reached for his talon knife, but paused. Where was it? He looked down, and noticed the too large brown pants given to him from Tinsley, "shit..."

Banjo smirked, "well, where's your death gonna leave your fuck buddy?"

Ricky glared, and clenched his hands, "Clar-Tinsley isn't my fuck buddy!" He went to step forward, but Banjo cocked the gun, and Ricky paused.

Banjo stared, and raised an eyebrow, " _Clar_?" He chuckled, "I was wrong, you love him..." He looked to closed bedroom door with a sick smirk, then looked to Ricky.

Ricky tensed, and paled drastically. He hated submitting, but he had no choice, and raised his hands, "Banjo, please... You'll kill me, and he will feel everything, he'll loose a lead, a relationship, a killer, everything. You kill him, I go about my life and move on."

"Then why are you defending him then?" Smirked Banjo, and Ricky swallowed. Banjo pointed his gun at Rick again, and shrugged, "it's all fine..." He walked forward, and Ricky back up, "I'm gonna kill you both." He backed Ricky into a wall. "See you in Hell, arsehole."

Ricky closed his eyes and tensed up, as a loud bang echoed the apartment. He didn't feel a searing pain, or sharp pain spread across his body like he thought, and he opened his eyes slowly. In front of him stood Banjo, eyes wide as if in shock, and blood seeping from a large hole in his chest, suddenly Banjo fell down, his blood pooling around his body, sinking into the wooden floorboards, dead, staring at the ceiling.

There on the opposite side of Ricky, and the body, was Tinsley, standing with a gun pointed at where Banjo had previously stood, his eyes scanning Ricky's unharmed body, from his shaking legs, to his raised hands in surrender, to the splatters of blood staining the white shirt and chest from Banjo's bullet wound, and then to Ricky's wide eyes. Tinsley stared in a frozen state of shock, eyes wide, breathing shaky, almsot as if panting, and his hands shook in fear, and the gun shook as well, clattering slightly.

Ricky moved forward slightly, "Clarence?" He asked softly.

Like a switch, Tinsley began to move again, still in shock. He dropped his gun with a loud clatter, and stumbled back into the wall, and slid down, knees to his chest, and stared at the body in horror at himself, and teared up, "I-I just..."

Ricky's eyes widened, _Clarence killed for me..._ He moved forward slowly, and knelt down, "Clarence, darling?" Tinsley looked up, tears slipping down his cheeks, and Ricky pulled him into hug.

Tinsley sobbed, and wrapped his arms around Ricky, burying his head into Ricky's shoulders, "I killed him... Ricardo, I killed him..."

"I know, I know..." Ricky rubbed his back, also in a state of shock, but not as bad as Tinsley, "you saved my life..."

Tinsley looked up from Ricky's shoulder, sniffing, "what?"

"You saved my life..." Ricky repeated, "you just killed for me..."

Tinsley nodded slightly, in a shocked realisation, "I didn't even think of it like that..."

"Are you okay?" Ricky asked, gently brushing a hand through Tinsley's hair.

Tinsley nodded, resting his cheek against Ricky's head. He sniffed, and closed his heads, leaning into Ricky's touch, "he was going to kill you..."

Ricky nodded, "yeah, he was..."

"I... I'd do it again if it means you're alive..." Tinsley said softly, running a hand up Ricky's arms softly.

Ricky looked to the body, and stared, "I need to dump the body before rigor mortis sets in..."

Tinsley looked to Banjo's body as well, and gently took Ricky's hand, " _we_ need to dump the body..."

Ricky looked to Tinsley and held him close, "you don't have to join me in this..."

"I know, but I want to. I killed him, so-so I should at-at least help." Tinsley said, and looked to the body, "how do we do move him?"

"It... Move it..." Ricky corrected, and Tinsley looked to him. He got up, and gently pulled Tinsley up, "come on..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rigor Mortis sets in, in about 1 to 6 hours (average 2–4 hours). So, woop!


	22. i always thought i might be bad, now I'm sure that it's true

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C. C. Tinsley and Ricky Goldsworth deal with the aftermath of the murder of Banjo McClintock

It was silent and tense, with Ricky driving the car, hands tightly clasping the steering wheel, and Tinsley was in the passenger seat, glancing behind his shoulder, and then to the front, shivering slightly. He was trying to ignore the body wrapped in white sheets, that were slowly staining red by each passing second, Tinsley still in shock at himself.

This is it, this is the moment were C. C. Tinsley knew, there was no going back. He's a criminal, a murderer, and he's dating a man, not just any man, but a wanted serial killer, and bank thief, he can't come back from this. However, he realised in a dark, and twisted turn of events, that he didn't want to go back.

Tinsley reached over, and took Ricky's hand gently, his fingers caressing Ricky's skin softly, and Ricky squeezed his hand comfortingly, and brought their hands up, kissing Tinsley's knuckles softy and gently.

They kept driving in silence, and Tinsley grimly wandered where Ricky was going, and where they were putting Ba— no, the body. Where are they dumping the body? Tinsley could only hope that Ricky knew what he was doing, as as far as he knew, Ricky dumped bodies where people could see them, he never dumped them were they weren't found, and left unsolved. Right? Or maybe he did, as this might the first? Who knows... Tinsley shook his head, he didn't really want to think about the killings his boyfriends done. Right now he should be focusing on his first killing, and if he as going to get off free.

Ricky pulled up in front of a rushing, harsh lake, with trees surrounding the edges, and went far into a woods like area, clustering together. The two didn't move, and just sat, staring forward. Ricky glanced to Tinsley, asif to say he still had time to leave, still had time to back out, and turn around, that he's not too far involved yet. Tinsley looked to Ricky, and nodded his head, he didn't really want to talk. Yes, this was real, very, very real, and Tinsley's accepted that. He's accepted that there is no going back, that this is it, but, talking and saying things, he might have a mental break down, and he really didn't want to cry in front of Ricky.

The two silently got out the car, and moved to Ricky's side. Ricky sniffed, and opened the door, and took the head of the body, and gently dragged the body out, and Tinsley took the legs of the body. They shuffled to the edge of the lake, and knew they had to get it further out instead of just the edge. They swung the body, and with a heave, they leg go, dumping the body into the middle of the water with a loud splash.

Standing close together, they watch Banjo's body slowly sink to the lake floor slowly, the rush water crashing against rocks. Ricky glance to Tinsley, and gently placed a hand on his lower back, and went to say something, but Tinsley shook his head, no, no talking. Tinsley wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and rested his head onto of Ricky's, while Ricky leaned into Tinsley. Tinsley's muscles were tense to the point that it was hurting, and Ricky was just trying to calm Tinsley, and give him comfort by rubbing his lower back.

Tinsley looked to Ricky, and Ricky looked back nervously, wondering what was going through Tinsley's head. Forcefully, and greedily, Tinsley pulled Ricky up into a deep kiss, and Ricky kissed back, taking a sharp intake of air through his nose. Ricky wrapped his arms around Tinsley's neck, hand moving up into Tinsley's hairs, wrapping the strands around his index finger, and Tinsley's hands gripped Ricky's waist, digging his fingers into Ricky's hips painfully, and possessively, making Ricky hum content. Tinsley pulled back, and panted slightly, as Ricky greedily kissed down Tinsley's neck, to his shoulders, while Tinsley suddenly squeezed Ricky's arse, making Ricky gasp. Tinsley's lips suddenly covered his, and his tongue ran past Ricky's lips and teeth, pleasantly enjoying the warmth of the smaller mans mouth.

Ricky allowed Tinsley to back him up into their car, and allowed Tinsley to roam his mouth. The taller man needed this, to feel like he had control over the situation that he really had no control over. Ricky's hands roamed Tinsley's body, pulling the taller man closer, and Tinsley happily obliged, but a loud crunch of a twig snapping echoed the rather quiet woodsy lake. The two pulled back with a gasp, saliva strings connecting to their tongues, and panted, looking around in confused worry. What was that? Did somebody see them dump the body? See them making out?

The two didn't wait, and rushed into the car, Ricky in the drivers seat, and Tinsley is the passenger seat, and Ricky drove off, back in silence, more tense then before at the thought of someone seeing them. The two kept glancing to each other, and then to the front, and kept driving. They arrived at the apartments in no time, no doubt Ricky was speeding so that way Tinsley could sleep the night away and shake the memories off.

Ricky helped Tinsley out, and Tinsley sneaked Ricky into his apartment, making sure Clara didn't see. He locked the door, and the winodw again, and tiredly pulled Ricky into their bed. Ricky yawned, and held Tinsley close as a big spon, arm wrapped around Tinsley's waist, hand gently on the taller mans slightly pudgy stomach. Tinsley smiled slightly, and cuddled his back into Ricky's chest, hand holding Ricky's hand gently. The two slowly fell asleep, cuddled together, a dreamless and tense night to get rid of the memories of the night. It was almsot like nothing had happened.

It was early in the morning when the telephone rang, and Tinsley woke up. He groaned, and cracked open his eyes, he reached over and picked up the telephone. He placed it to his ear, and his voice was filled, and husked with sleep, "hi..." He was too tired to think straight, unable to process that this was least polite way to greet someone.

"Detective Tinsley."

Tinsley rubbed his eyes, "Detective Horlsey?" He was now more alert, leaning up.

"You need to get to the station." Holly said, tense and serious,

Tinsley shook his head, "Horsley, I'm sorry, but I—"

"Banjo escaped last night." Horsley said, cutting Tinsley off suddenly.

"Well, that's not good. I don't know what you want me to do—"

Again, Holly cut him off, "he went missing, we have no idea where he went. But..."

Tinsley tensed, "but?"

"We found Banjo, we found his body..."

Tinsley suddenly felt sick, and began to shake, "body?"

"Yes, body." Holly agreed, "we need you in the station."

"R-right, I'll be there soon." Tinsley agreed, and Holly hung up, the dial tone sounding, and he set the phone down. He got up, and rolled out of his bed, and rushed to the bathroom, choked, coughing up vomit, stomach churning, and last nights meal coming up, with acid burning his throat. Retching filled the bathroom.

Tinsley walked back to his and Ricky's room, and paused to see Ricky leaning up, eyes shining in worry, "Clarence? Are you okay?"

Sighing, Tinsley sat and took Ricky's hands, kissing his knuckles, "they found Banjo's body, a-already..."

Ricky frowned and sat up, "what? How?!"

"I don't know..." Tinsley let go, and ran a hand through his hair, "Ricardo, I don't know what to do... I-I have to go in, and what if they question me?"

"Why would they?" Ricky asked, caressing his cheek, "it's going to be okay." He assured. "Get dressed, stay calm, it'll be okay." He promised softly, "they can't link it to you, nobody saw."

"What about the twig snapping..." Tinsley said, worried.

Ricky shook his head, "we were outside, around trees. It was probably just an animal."

Tinsley nodded, "right..." He got up, and get dressed, pants, white button up, and trench coat, hurrying around to do so.

Ricky sat up, and met Tinsley in a soft kiss, "stay safe, I love you..."

Tinsley smiled, "I love you too..." He rushed out, and Ricky watched after him with a soft, and worried frown.


	23. you bring out the worst in me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C. C. Tinsley and Ricky Goldsworth face a shoot out.

Tinsley gripped the wheel of his car, sweating. He didn't want to go, and he wished he could prolong the inevitable, but he couldn't, he was there in what felt seconds, he was outside the station, all he has to do is go up the steps. All he has to do is put on his hat. All he ha to do if mess with possible evidence, or give fake suspects.

He shakily got out his car, he put on his hat, and slowly walked up the steps. He stood outside the door, and took a deep breath of air, then pushed the door open, walking in, but then froze. There in a chair near the reception desk sat Clara, hands on her small black bag, "Clara? Why are you here?" He asked, still near the door, gripping the door frame.

"Just here to report something..." Clara answered, vaguely, looking straight at Tinsley.

Tinsley fished out a cigarette from his pocket, and placed it between his lips, but didn't light it. He nodded, and went to walk forward, but again paused, seeing Holly walk over, "Tinsley, it's good to see you. Can you come to my office?"

"I'm sorry you lost your only suspect, but I need to find another." Tinsley said, tense, and now chewing the tip of the cigarette.

Holly walked over, a cold look in her eyes, arms crossed, all formalities gone, "Tinsley... Banjo was found dead early this morning. Forensics say he was shot, and dumped in the lake."

Tinsley blinked, "that's terrible..."

Holly looked to Clara, who slowly moved over to Holly, and hid behind her. "Tinsley, it could be a coincidence, but there was a gun shot from your apartment, and you and another man walked into your apartment. There was also an eye witness of two men dumping a body wrapped in sheets. We know one man was Ricky." She was walking closer with each word she was saying, and Tinsley was backing up. "So, tell me Tinsley... Was it you?"

Tinsley swallowed, realising he's not coming back from this, and sighed, "I'm sorry Horsley..."

"I'm arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Banjo McClintock." Holly brought out her handcuffs, and snapped one of the cuffs around his wrist, and Tinsley grabbed her wrist, and pulled her down, smashing his head into her nose. She screamed, and fell down, her nose broken and bleeding. Clara screamed, and covered her mouth in horror, and watched Tinsley run.

Tinsley jumped in his car, and drove off, speeding and swerving cars. He skidded to a stop out the apartments, and practically threw the door open, running out, and up the stairs, eyes wide in panic. He barged into his apartment, panting, running a hand through his hair, knocking his hat off.

Ricky was sat on the sofa, dressed, with the news on the television. He was drawing, and sketching the television and desk in front of him, with a match stick in between his lips. He looked up to Tinsley with a smile, but then frowned, seeing how worried his boyfriend was. He set down the sketchbook, and rushed over, caressing Tinsley's cheek, "Clarence?"

Tinsley looked up, and kissed Ricky, and Ricky kissed back, allowing the match stick to fall from his lips. Slowly, Tinsley pulled back, pale, "they know we killed Banjo..." Ricky froze, and Tinsley continued, "and they might know I'm here, so they might come here."

"We'll pack, get in your car and leave." Ricky said, looking around. He groaned, "shit, Night Night's gonna flip his wig when he realises I was caught, again..."

Tinsley chuckled, his laugh panicked, and gently held Ricky's face, "what do you need?"

"You." Ricky said instantly, and the sneered at himself, "damn it, you've turned to me soft..."

Tinsley smiled, and kissed his cheek, "I'll go pack..." He rushed off.

Tinsley packed a small suitcase, he shoved in a few shirts, and pants, placing his hat on the top of his head, and shoved his poetry book in his trench coat pocket, and Ricky made sure he had his sketchbook. Tinsley ran out his bedroom, and held Ricky's waist, "you don't have anything."

"I know, but everything's at Night Night's, and like I said, I need you and only you." Ricky said, softly, and kissed Tinsley's lips quickly, and Tinsley pulled him back into a kiss.

Sirens filled the air, and yelling, "Tinsley! Goldsworth! Get down here now!" The two pulled back, and looked at each other, eyes wide. They rushed over to Tinsley's window, and looked out, seeing police cars surrounding the apartment building, and police with guns raised.

"Shit." Tinsley cursed.

Ricky stared, and took Tinsley's hand, "Clarence, it's gonna end in a shoot out..."

Tinsley nodded, "I know..." He pulled out his gun, and made sure his gun was filled with bullets, and pointed to his car, "there's the car, lets go."

Ricky nodded, "right."

"Ricardo," Tinsley handed over a gun, not just any gun, Banjo's gun, "stay safe..." Again, Ricky nodded. The two walked out their apartment, and saw other people poking their heads out their doors, confused.

Ricky rolled his eyes, and shot the ceiling, making everyone scream and jump, "get back in your apartments!" Some heeded the warning, and a few didn't.

Tinsley looked to a man, and shot near his head, as he and Ricky walked down the stairs, and got the main entrance to the apartments. Ricky placed a match stick between his lips, and Tinsley got out a cigarette and place it between his lips. Ricky opened the door, one hand raised, the other pointing the gun, "easy!" He walked out, and Tinsley followed, arms wrapped around Ricky's waist, and guns clicked and cocked, aiming at the two.

"Hey, do we look like we're gonna hurt anyone?" Smirked Tinsley, looking to Holly, "well?"

Holly glared, nose broken and bloody, "what happened to you detective?"

"I fell in love," Tinsley shrugged, and aim his gun, "now, let us to our car, and nobody gets hurt."

"I can't do that..." Holly said, tense.

Ricky smirked, and cocked his gun, "alright then, fuck this." He shot at Holly, who dodged, and it set off a chain affect.

Tinsley jumped behind a car, followed by Ricky, the two shooting from behind the car, as the police kept shooting, hitting the car. Ricky shot a few in the head, and he and Tinsley cheered, sharing a kiss. Tinsley shot a few in their legs, and grinned, watching them fall and scream in pain, and Ricky smirked, "that's gonna fuckin' hurt!" Ricky pulled out the match from between his lips, and struck the match on the floor, and lit his cigarette, and Tinsley took an intake of smoke, and sighed, satisfied. Ricky dropped the match stick, and Tinsley took a new match stick and placed the new one between his lips. The two looked up from behind the now shot up car, and shot a few more officers, spotting Tinsley's car.

"You get the car started, and I'll shoot the tires." Ricky grinned.

Tinsley nodded, and pulled the cigarette out, kissing his cheek, "stay safe." He rushed off, dodging bullets.

Ricky kept shooting at them, and began shoot the tires, as Tinsley got in his car, starting the car up. He poked his head out, "come on, baby!"

Grinning, Ricky rushed to the car once all the tires popped, and he got into the passenger seat, "drive!"

Tinsley sped out, and glanced behind them, seeing the officers get in the car, but unable to drive off, the tires having been shot to the point there was just nothing, and full of wholes, as well as the engine and windows. He looked to Ricky, and the two laughed, as Ricky leaned over, kissing his cheek, the two speeding off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> flip your wig - lose your temper


	24. this world will remember us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tinsley and Ricky do their first job together.

Speeding down the road in the middle of nowhere, Ricky had taken the drivers seat and Tinsley took the passenger seat. Ricky blinked, and glanced to Tinsley softly, "we aren't going to survive this... You know that, right?"

Tinsley glanced up from his poetry book, and looked down again, nodding with a smirk, "why do you think I packed guns? We can always steal more..."

Ricky frowned, worried, "you sure? You're still a detective at heart..." He knew his boyfriend cared about the law, cared about right and wrong. He could find a way to help Tinsley get out of all this, all he needed was the word.

"I'm also in love with you..." Tinsley smiled, and reached over, taking Ricky's hand, setting his book down. "Ricardo, I'll do anything you say..."

Ricky blushed, and smiled as he pulled over in the middle of nowhere. He leaned over, and kissed Tinsley's lips softly, he wrapped his arms around Tinsley's neck. Tinsley sighed happily into Ricky's lips, and wrapped his arms around Ricky's waist. The two found themselves in the back of their car, lips pressed together roughly, lips bruising, and Tinsley being pinned under Ricky.

They slept well that night, cuddled together, but dear god, Tinsley's legs and hip was sore. Tinsley climbed into the passenger seat, hips sore, and he was aching, he pulled out his poetry book and began writing. Ricky climbed into the drivers seat, a smirk on his lips, and began driving.

"God, my neck is killing me." Tinsley sighed, rubbing his neck, "this car is so uncomfortable..."

"I know, this is the worst sleeping place..." Ricky nodded, looking down slightly as he drove down the road still smiling.

Tinsley kept writing, a small smile on his lips, "well? What we doing, baby?"

"Well, sugar, we're gonna do a job, get some money." Grinned Ricky, glancing to his boyfriend.

Tinsley grinned, and nodded, a dark look passing his eyes ever so slightly, "after our first job, Ill drive."

Ricky smiled, _first job_? He could live with multiple if it meant being with Tinsley, "that would be helpful, sugar."

Tinsley smiled, looking down to his poetry book, "anything for you."

Looking over, Ricky glanced to Tinsley's hands, "what are you writing about?"

"Writing about us." Tinsley smiled, looking up to Ricky softly, "you..."

Ricky blushed, and bit his lip smiling, chest fluttering, "think we could collaborate?" Tinsley looked up, and Ricky continued, "you write the poem, I'll draw?"

Wheezing happily, Tinsley said, "yes! We can spend time on it, and we can _publish_ it!"

"Hell yeah!" Ricky cheered, and the two gave each other a high five. And, Tinsley entwined their fingers together, and pulled Ricky's hand down slowly, and kissed the back of it. Ricky wheezed, smiling.

Tinsley gripped his hand, and the two kept driving down the road in comfortable silence, giving each other soft looks. Tinsley kept pulling Ricky's hand to his lips, and planting a kiss against his hand, and Ricky would lean over, kissing Tinsley's cheek softly. The two would look around, until eventually, they pulled over.

They looked up, seeing a large bank, golden with large windows, with cream coloured pillars and it seemed to be rather full, people walking in and out the building, with steps leading up to the building, filled with people.

Ricky sighed, "you sure you wanna do this?"

Tinsley looked over, and pulled Ricky's head to him, and kissed his gently. He reached over, and pulled out two guns, and two bags, and gave Ricky a gun and bag, nodding, "lets go."

"Do you want a mask?" Ricky asked, tucking the gun into his trench coat.

"We're already wanted men." Tinsley caressed Ricky's softly, and smiled, "might as well show everyone our pretty faces, and show everyone you're mine."

Ricky blushed, and kissed him softly, "I might let you take over tonight."

Tinsley blushed, and grinned happily, kissing Ricky again, he slowly pulled back, "lets go."

The two climbed out the car, the car still running so they could make a quick get away. They walked up the steps, next to each other, holding their hands and hiding them out of sight. They pushed open the large, double doors, and walked in. The floor's marble. and people were walking around, and sat on chairs. There was five desks, with five people behind them. It's rather large.

Tinsley gently nudged Ricky's shoulders, and nodded his head to the side. Ricky looked over, and nodded, seeing the large safe, filled with money, and a banker closed the door. The two shared a look, and grinned, eyes soft, and in unison, they pulled theirs guns out,

Ricky shot the ceiling once, and yelled, "hands in the air! And don't say a fucking thing!" Everyone screamed, hands immediately going in the air, and a few people hid under desks. Ricky had done this a few times, and he had this under control, but he's never done this with his face on view.

Tinsley watched Ricky, eyes soft. He looked around, and paused, to see a banker, a male, crawling over the phones, no doubt to call the police. He wasted no time, and raised his gun, shooting the man down in his head, and everyone screamed in terror, seeing the blood seep from the mans head. Tinsley cocked his gun, and looked around, "don't fucking move!"

Ricky stared up at Tinsley, eyes soft, completely smitten by him. "You get the cash, doll? I'll heal with it out here."

Tinsley grinned, nodding, and swaggered off to a banker, a female, pointing a gun at her, "open the safe." _This is kinda fun..._

The banker rushed over, shaking, her hands raised and she slowly opened the safe. Tinsley jerked his head for her to leave, and she ran, shaking. He walked in, and immediately began filling his bag with notes, and as well as stuffing his pockets with money, and a few into the sides of his shoes, anywhere he could put money, he'd shove it in. He kept hearing a few screams and gun shots, and he smiled, madly in love with Ricky.

He ran out out the safe when he ran out of places to shove money, and saw people tied up, and a few people bleeding out, shot, severely hurt or dead. He looked to Ricky, seeing his bag and pockets full of cash and coins, and he smiled, walking over, "got everything."

Ricky grinned, "good." He gripped Tinsley's collar, and pulled him down, kissing him, and Tinsley kissed back, hands going to Ricky's waist. A few people grimaced, and looked away, with one person scoffing in disgust. The two pulled back slowly with a soft smile, and shot them about five people, dead, without a word. They shared a sickening grin, Tinsley falling in love with this lifestyle.

Ricky looked around with a smug smirk, and raised his hand, "well folks!It's been fun, but we'll be taking our leave!"

Tinsley gripped his hand, and began pulling him out, smiling. The two rushed down the stairs laughing, bright smiles on their lips, and held each others hands, and people dodged, screaming and moving to the sides. Ricky slid over the bonnet of the car, and jumped into the passenger seat, and Tinsley got into the drivers seat, and sped off, the two still laughing, mixing with the screams of people.

Ricky laughed, watching Tinsley's profile. Tinsley was still smiling and laughing happily, and Ricky now had a new plan, this wasn't just him anymore. _I'll make a name for both of us. This world will remember us!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update, been dealing with a few things at home. Nothing to worry about! Just some personal stuff! Anyway, hope you enjoyed!


	25. just one year of love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C. C. Tinsley and Ricky Goldsworth have been together for a year.

**1 Year Later**

_Tinsley and Goldsworth Strike Again!_

_Another attack, and heist by Tinsley and Goldsworth last night. The two arrived at Lotsol Bank at eight at night, eye witnesses say they ran up the stairs, laughing and giggling, shooting up a storm. Officer Ranch, an eye witness guarding the bank, says; "They barged in with a bang! Me first though' was ta pull my gun on 'em, arrest 'em, but my they were worked fastly. Tinsley shot me leg and Goldsworth laughed." T_ _hey broke into the safe at eight thirty, Tinsley going into the back, and Goldsworth filled his pockets with cash. The two danced together in the middle of the room—_

"That's another one for the scrap book." Rick said softly, leaning over Tinsley's shoulder, reading the newspaper in his husbands hands, before glancing down at his sketchbook again.

Tinsley grinned, and looked at the picture they used; He and Ricky, guns out, running down the stairs laughing and holding hands. "Yeah it is." He got up and dusted his pants off, dusting the dirt and sand off his pants.

The two were currently on the run from the law, and slept either in their car, or they'd stay in abandoned, barren land in the middle of nowhere. They'd sit and write, and draw, and fill out a scrap book full of their life on the run, and would sit, kissing, making out. On more then one occasion, Tinsley would be limping during a heist all thanks to Ricky, and their activities from the night before.

Tinsley opened the back door of their car, and pushed the green, loose cash and coins that were thrown on the back, and picked up their scrapbook. He gently trailed the rather full, and well used, stolen scrapbook. Brown, slightly bumpy leather, and while well used, and full, it was also well kept, and clean, and it read _TinsWorth_ in gold on the front.

Ricky scooted over, setting his sketchbook down, and opened the book with a soft smile, as he rested his chin on Tinsley's shoulder, kissing his cheek, as he gently flipped through the book.

There was simple, domestic pictures of the two in romantic poses; there was a few with them kissing in the sunset, some with them holding hands, and cuddling each other, arms wrapped around each other gently. There was one picture of Ricky smirking, holding Tinsley up by his waist, and Tinsley laughing, stood in front of their car. And another, their personal favourite; An entire page dedicated to their quiet wedding. It was them holding hands, smiling at each other, a picture of them with their wedding rings on show, and them dancing. They had a man, held a gun point, forcing his to wed them, and hostages to witness their wedding, and therefore, legally married, another picture was of the witnesses dead, shot and Tinsley and Ricky stood on top of them and kissing.

There were also funny pictures in the scrapbook, such as; Tinsley pointing a gun at Ricky, who held his hands up, the two grinned. There was another with a man, pointing a gun at them playfully, and the two held their hands up jokingly. There was a few of them back to back, and others with them just sticking their tongues out, and grinning playfully.

Then there was a few singular photographs; One was, Ricky sat in front of the car, match stick in his mouth, holding a gun, staring at the camera with a smug smirk. Another was of Tinsley, resting his elbow on the car, holding a pistol and a cigar in between his lips, and sneering.

There was also a few sketches in the scrapbook, sketches of them, of Tinsley, of hearts and flowers. A few animals and bugs, and a few victims, lives lost to Tinsley and Ricky. There were also rough poems, quick, short paragraphs, declarations of love, and of how Ricky looks, of their cases, of victims and banks.

It was also filled with clippings; Clippings of their heists, of lives lost to them, of pictures of them fleeing the crime scene, telling their story from the beginning of their lives on the run. A full year of their lives on the run.

Tinsley cut the column out, and the picture used, and stuck in the book, titling the page; _LOTSOL BANK._

Ricky wrapped his arms around Tinsley's waist, kissing his taller husbands cheeks, "how's that poem about us coming along?" His husband has been writing, and rewriting their poem for about a year.

Tinsley grinned, and looked up from their scrapbook, and gently kissed him gently, "it's going well. How's the drawing coming?"

"Good." Ricky grinned, a dreamy look in his eyes and gently kissed Tinsley again, and again, and again, a giggle escaping their lips after each peck.

Tinsley sighed, and pressed his forehead against Ricky's, "come on, we have to go." He glanced around warily, and helped Ricky up, and packed their things away, "I'll drive, you need to rest your arm."

Ricky sneered, he almost forgot about that. A good heist from last night came with a consequence. Ricky was shot in his arm, and he looked to his blood stained shirt, his arm wrapped in a bandage, "okay, but I'm telling you sugar, I'm fine..."

"Still." Tinsley said, short and quick, helping Ricky into the passenger seat. He got into the drivers seat, and drove off with a small smile, as Ricky reached over, taking his hand. Tinsley had a plan, "we'll lay low, let your arm rest and heal. We'll get a place in a motel, and stay for a few nights."

"Won't they turn us in?" Ricky asked, unsure. _Why was I shot?_ He thought, helplessly and annoyed at himself.

"Not if we pay them generously." Tinsley assured, but then he grinned, "and we'll rob it back."

Ricky's eyes widened, and looked at Tinsley, eyes soft and gentle, "I love you, so much."

"I love you too." Tinsley grinned.

They stayed at a motel, it was slightly run down, and they payed the owners handsomely to keep their mouths shut. They shared a room, and stayed low, barely leaving. How could they leave? Everyone was looking for them.

They spent the days looking for places to hit up next, and were to go after this. They spent the time cuddled on the motel bed, writing and drawing, and sharing kisses, and hugs, running hands over bodies, while being mindful of Ryan's bullet injury. They were in hiding, more then usual.

This particular day, the two slept in, cuddled together under blankets. Banging echoed the room, and the two groaned, waking up, still fully dressed as they don't have pyjamas. They're on the run, not in Buckingham Palace! Ricky rolled out of bed, and yawned, and while he was tired, he had the sense to grab his gun.

He sneaked over, and peaked through the peep hole, and his eyes widened. He turned to Tinsley, "shit. It's Horsley."

Tinsley sat up immediately, eyes wide in horror. He got up, and began frantically packing the small amount of possessions they had. He jerked his head to the small window, "lets go."

The two rushed out, sneaking out through the window, just as the door was smashed open, Holly storming into the motel room. Tinsley and Ricky rushed to their car that was left unattended, and jumped in the driver and passenger seat. Tinsley slammed on the gas, and sped off down the street, leaving behind the money.

"Shit, we're low..." Ricky glared at nothing, annoyed.

Tinsley looked behind them, eyes wide, and looked to the road ahead, "we'll need to do another job... You think you're up for it, honey?" He asked softly, looking to his husband.

Ricky looked over with a grin, and his eyes softened, "lets do it, babe!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update, but I finally did!
> 
> Just one chapter left, and then it's all over! Is everyone excited?! I am!


	26. the story of tinsley and ricky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end of Ricky Goldsworth and C. C. Tinsley.

**4 Months Later**

Screaming, and bullet sounds filled the air. Ricky was stood in the middle of Monroe Bank, his guns out and shooting everyone, eyes wide in a mad panic, his hair a mess, stuck up in random directions, and he was a sickly pale, as he shoved money frantically into a bag, and in his pockets.

Tinsley was no better, frantically, and rapidly stuffing, filling his bag, pockets, shoes and hands with money, eyes wide and panicked, as his mind whirled and swam with terrifying thoughts. _We shouldn't have stopped at that motel..._ He thought, running a hand through his hair, knocking his hat slightly. _We need the money, we need money._ God, did they need the money. _Fuck! Fuck! Horsley is gonna catch us..._ He thought, helplessly. _We need the money, but that bitch of a detective is close to catching us!_ Holly had nearly caught them on multiple occasions for the past four months, and he blames himself for it. If they hadn't stopped at that motel, Holly wouldn't have found them.

Ricky shot a few people, and shot a few officers that were in the bank, "Tinsy babe! Are you okay back there?!" He yelled, glancing over his shoulder the safe.

Tinsley ran out, bags overflowing with a money, eyes wide in panic— No, fear, in terror.. He was heaving, and ran over to Ricky, "let's go, let's go, now!"

"What?!" Ricky asked in shock, and held Tinsley's shoulders, "what's wrong?!" He caressed Tinsley's cheek in worry, and Tinsley covered his hand with his own. Tinsley went to answer, but was cut off by loud sirens, and yelling. Ricky glared at Tinsley, but the glare was not aimed to his husband, and he felt his stomach churning. He felt sick. "How did we not notice until it was too late?!" He asked, worried, shaking slightly.

"It came from behind the bank, near the safe. The safe's soundproof." Tinsley answered, swallowing. With a quick kiss to his shorter husbands lips, he gripped Ricky's hand, "we have to go!"

Tinsley dragged Ricky to the entrance, bag in one hand. Ricky gripped his own bag, and ran next to Tinsley, the two holding hands. They threw the doors open, and ran down the steps, panting, but froze on the steps, fear gripping them.

Officers surrounded the bank, and held up guns, which were pointed on them. Holly stood there, gun pointed at them, "C. C. Tinsley and Ricky Goldsworth!" The two stared at her. "Give yourselves over, and nobody gets hurt."

Tinsley glared at Holly, and set down his bag of money, and Ricky glanced over, seeing their car in the open. He jerked his head slightly to the car, then to the police, and Tinsley nodded in agreements. Ricky set his bag of money down.

_On three..._ Tinsley looked to Ricky.

Ricky nodded slightly, _one..._

_Two..._ Tinsley reached to his pocket slowly.

_Three..._ Ricky took a sharp intake of air.

Ricky and Tinsley pulled out their guns, which then set off the officers. A shoot out. Bullets fell and hit cars, and the bank wall, smoke filled the air, and screaming, and loud bangs echoed the area. Ricky and Tinsley made a mad dash to their car, and kept shooting, managing to hi and shot a few of them. The officers began shooting at the car as Tinsley and Ricky threw the door open.

A few officers stopped, and added more bullets. They aimed at the two criminals that were in the midst of getting in the car, and shot, screams filling the air from civilians, and—

"Clarence!"

"Ricardo!"

~~~~~

Night Night rubbed his eyes, tiredly. He's not seen Ricky in a year, not since Ricky and Tinsley went on the run, and... God... He felt sick, he always feels sick when thinking of his cousin. He felt guilt anytime when he thought of Ricky, hating how the last thing Ricky and Night Night did was argue. They never got in contact again.

Legs and Night Night were never found, all thanks to Tinsley throwing everyone off their tracks. The two having been living a peaceful life together for a year, in retirement in a way. It was domestic.

Night Night walked into the living room that morning, yawning and tired, as he rubbed his eyes. He looked to the sofa, and smiled softly, seeing Legs, and walked over, but his smile turned to a frown in confusion. Legs was staring at the newspaper, pale and he looked sick.

"What's wrong?" Night Night asked softly, and kissed Legs cheek.

Legs looked to Night Night, tears in his eyes, "I'm so sorry..." He handed over the newspaper with a frown.

Night Night frowned, and held the newspaper. He looked to the title, a numb, sick feeling settling in his stomach. _No, no... Not Ricky..._

_Goldsworth and Tinsley Shot Dead By Police!_

_Clarence Charles Tinsley and Ricardo Goldsworth entered Monroe Bank at six o'clock, yesterday. Mike Hona, the banker held at gun point, told us: "They knew somethin' be up. Panicked and frantic they were. Goldy in a crazed, old killin' spree. Tinsley in the back, fillin' those bags with money..."_

_Police were already on their tracks for over a year, and it's been reported that police have been close to arresting Goldsworth and Tinsley for four months. This would explain why they have been so frantic. The police appeared twenty minutes after their attack on Monroe Bank, just as the two were in the middle of their escape._

_Officer Rich Anderson, eye witness and the Officer who shot Goldsworth down, said: "They seemed scared, afraid. And, I don't think it was because of their inevitable death, I believe it's because they didn't want to be taking away from each other. They didn't want to be separated." They had a silent conversation according to Officer Anderson, and both drew their guns and began shooting. However, they were severely outnumbered. Police opened fire on the two._

_The two ran to their car, but were shot down with no hesitation, the car and bodies riddled with bullets. It has been estimated Goldsworth and Tinsley were shot down with 130 rounds, and they bled out in their car. After a string of violent murders, and crimes, the pair was pronounced dead on the scene._

_Their car with their bodies inside are to be driven down New York, and to the morgue. What is to be done with their bodies in unknown, but what is known is, due to their private, homosexual marriage, they want to be buried together. Clarence Charles Tinsley wrote poetry, and Ricardo Goldsworth drew. It seems the two predicted their fate with their final poem and drawing._

_**The Story of Tinsley and Ricky** _

_  
You've read the story of Jesse James  
Of how he lived and died;  
If you're still in need  
Of something to read,  
Here's the story of Tinsley and Ricky._

_Now Tinsley and Ricky are the Night Night gang,  
I'm sure you all have read  
How they rob and steal  
And those who squeal  
Are usually found dying or dead._

_There's lots of untruths to these write-ups;  
They're not so ruthless as that;  
Their nature is raw;  
They hate all the law  
The stool pigeons, spotters, and rats._

_They call them cold-blooded killers;  
They say they are heartless and mean;  
But I say this with pride,  
That I once knew Ricky  
When he was honest and upright and clean._

_But the laws fooled around,  
Kept taking him down  
And locking him up in a cell,  
Till he said to me,  
"I'll never be free,  
So I'll meet a few of them in hell."_

_The road was so dimly lighted;  
There were no highway signs to guide;  
But they made up their minds  
If all roads were blind,  
They wouldn't give up till they died._

_The road gets dimmer and dimmer;  
Sometimes you can hardly see;  
But it's fight, man to man,  
And do all you can,  
For they know they can never be free._

_From heart-break some people have suffered;  
From weariness some people have died;  
But take it all in all,  
Our troubles are small  
Till we get like Tinsley and Ricky._

_If a policeman is killed in Alfred,  
And they have no clue or guide;  
If they can't find a fiend,  
They just wipe their slate clean  
And hand it on Tinsley and Ricky._

_There's two crimes committed in America  
Not accredited to the Night Night mob;  
They had no hand  
In the kidnap demand,  
Nor the Buffalo City depot job._

_A newsboy once said to his buddy;  
"I wish old Ricky would get jumped;  
In these awful hard times  
We'd make a few dimes  
If five or six cops would get bumped."_

_The police haven't got the report yet,  
But Ricky called me up today;  
He said, "Don't start any fights  
We aren't working nights  
We're joining the NRA."_

_From Buffalo to New Rochelle viaduct  
Is known as a great ride,  
Where the women are kin,  
And the men are men,  
And they won't "stool" on Tinsley and Ricky._

_If they try to act like citizens  
And rent them a nice little flat,  
About the third night  
They're invited to fight  
By a sub-gun's rat-tat-tat._

_They don't think they're too tough or desperate,  
They know that the law always wins;  
They've been shot at before,  
But they do not ignore  
That death is the wages of sin._

_Some day they'll go down together;  
And they'll bury them side by side;  
To few it'll be grief  
To the law a relief  
But it's death for Tinsley and Ricky._

At the end, attached to the poem by Tinsley, was a drawing of Ricky and Tinsley, kissing each other softly, with devil horns coming from their heads, drawn by Ricky.

Legs stared at Night Night, and gently held him, "Ryan...?"

Night Night stared, tears running down his face, and screamed, clinging to Legs, sobbing and shaking, and Legs held him close, also sobbing, and the two crumpled to the floor in tears.

_**It's death** _ _**for** _ _**Ricky and Tinsley.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem is by Bonnie Parker called; The Story of Bonnie and Clyde. - I just changed a few things okay!
> 
> It's happened! This is it! It's the final chapter! How was it?! Did I do okay?! Did you enjoy? I hope you did!  
> Thank you for reading, and thank you for your support, it means so much that people read this. Thank you so much. I hope you enjoyed and it wasn't too disappointing! It's been fun to write, and plan, and I really enjoyed it! My first multi chapter, so, hopefully, it was okay for my first go!


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